A GEM

The gem is not this ode itself;

Hardly can it aspire so high.

Earth has its gems; but all its wealth,

Increased by thousands, cannot buy

Man's soul, the gem of priceless worth,

Made in God's image at its birth;

Ordained to live for evermore;

Redeemed by blood from sin and hell;

Transformed by grace, God's love to tell;

And at His feet its homage pour.

Lordly are its endowments, too;

Superb its destiny, if true;

Only below, said one who knew,

Unfallen angels round God's throne.

Lord, may this gem be Thine alone.