The Legacy (Poem)
by J.M.S. Tait
What shall he leave his sons? Silver nor gold,
Nor heritage, has he, nor herd nor fold.
Not these can he bequeath, but this he can –
The holy raiment of a saintly man.
The fair example of a life well spent;
Of daily tendance in the sacred tent;
Of ever-praiseful heart and reverent mind;
What nobler gift could father leave behind?
That son who, drawing near the throne of grace,
Can say “How well my father knew this place!
How oft I’ve heard his voice in fervent prayer!”
Happy that son, that richly-dowered heir.