One beautiful morn, so fresh and odd
On a distant crag, a man did trod
He raised his blade to hew a perch
And from the gouge three stones did lurch

The first was quite pale and buffed to soft green
To this finding, he gave the name "Humility".
The plain coal one, he title "Compassion" 
The last, "Patience", as it glowed with a passion

He carried his finds to the village below
Quite certain their value was quite far from low
But his wares were bypassed by the crowds and the masses
In search of false crystals and fake cutted glasses

The folk were entrapped by the general view
Shiny diamonds and temptatious rubies
And the glistening sheen of the emerald green
Stained their thoughts and defiled their fancies

So the man then went home with his treasure in hand
Not a penny on his wares was spent
But truth to be told, what he had was worth gold
And the masses will spend 'til they're spent