(Trad)
Rich in gold thou art, in thy hand is plenty
Silver is thy store, and yet thy heart is empty
Who shall count for thee, and what shall be the measure
What in time shall prove to be thy greatest treasure
Rich in pride and fame, dearly has it cost thee
Noted is thy name, and yet thy friends have lost thee
Who shall count for thee, and what shall be the measure
What in time shall prove to be thy greatest treasure
Rich in silks and fine coats of softest leather
Yet can they the storm of friendless trouble weather
Who shall count for thee, and what shall be the measure
What in time shall prove to be thy greatest treasure
Rich in music sweet, strings and voice combining
Yet bitter is thy tongue, by foes and friends aligning
Who shall count for thee, and what shall be the measure
What in time shall prove to be thy greatest treasure
Rich in loving poured like a rain upon thee
Not for love's reward but angry glances from thee
Yet I shall count for thee unto the fullest measure
Constancy shall prove by friends thy greatest treasure
(as sung by Jean Redpath)