I sat upon a Stone, 1198

I sat upon a stone
My legs crossed bone on bone
My elbow on my knee
My fingers to my cheek
Thus anxiously I pondered
How should man live, I wondered
What words could I proclaim
These three things would man attain
Which would not claim his mortal soul
Or turn him from God's holy goal

Fame and riches would man embrace
But best of all is God's sweet grace
Thus I cry, it makes no sense
Fame and wealth commit offense
They leave no room in man's heart
To cradle God's caring art
The worldly path leads to deceit
Witness the chaos in the street
Peace and justice cannot survive
If caring grace ceases to thrive