The mighty Croesus rubbed his hands
He had the gold he had the lands
He had it made despite the Persian threat
The oracle divinely said
An empire would soon be dead
Poor Croesus ended up with deep regret
For gold alone will not delay
Thy destiny for e’en a day
And those who think it will are soon dismayed
To find their gold is just a weight
Upon the soul as worthless freight
When God in all his glory is displayed
So search you rivers, creeks and fields
For autumn reds and aurum yields
If lucky you may find a grain or two
But gold lies not beneath the ground
The truest gold is surely found
Inside of God and deep inside inside of you