VALUES by Nosmo King, E.H. Organ & Ernest Longstaffe (1948) The world is full of sons of disconent, Wealth without work their futile, feverish bent, Fortune by lucky chance, the chains of toil to sever, Heedless of primal law-by sweet and stern endeavour. The task takes second place, the pay is all that matters, The dream of easy cash their resolution scatters. Less hours of work, more of uneasy leisure, Pursuing joylessly the costly myth of pleasure. What part have I in all this restless quest, Where only that which costs the most is best, Where values are in glitter and display, Where men are judged by what they have to pay? There's so much more in life than this to me, So many precious gifts completely free; God's bounty which He lavishly bestows - (Who really knows true wealth who only money knows?) The rippling moonlight in a woodland pool; The dimpled, laughing infant at the school; The long, cool shadows where the elm trees stand; The swelling bosom of this lovely land; Cascading roses on a garden arch; An ancient wall that saw the legions march; The smell of wood smoke in the evening breeze; The cawing rooks amongst the distant trees. A handclasp with a comrade of the past, Renewing bonds that will forever last The song of birds at closing of the day, The fragrant perfume of the new mown hay, The sweetness that the walls of home provide; Your children and a brave wife at your side; The summer sun, the moon and stars that shine, What need have I of greater wealth, when all this wealth is mine?

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