031 The Sweeter Morsel for the Worm

The Sweeter Morsel for the Worm by Charles Spurgeon How many live for that poor body of theirs Which so soon must moulder back to the dust? To dress, to adorn themselves, to catch the glance of the admirer's eye, To satisfy public taste, to follow fashion, Surely a more frivolous object in life Never engrossed an immortal soul. It seems as strange as if an angel Should be gathering daisies or blowing soap bubbles. An immortal spirit living only to dress the body, To paint the face, to dye the hair, To display a ribbon, to show off a pin, Is this the pursuit of an immortal being? Yet tens of thousands live for little else. As for earth's most lovely ones, How do time and death and the worm Together make havoc of them? Take up yonder skull, Just upturned by the sexton's careless spade, And take it to the yonder beauty and tell her, Though she paint her face an inch thick, To this complexion she must come at last. All her dressing shall end in a shroud, All her make-up and her dainty ornaments Shall only make her the sweeter morsel for the worm. Beloved friends, there is another life beyond this fleeting existence. Why, then, do you waste your time and degrade your souls with these frivolities? But godliness has value for all things, Holding promise for both the present life and the life to come. 1 Timothy chapter 4 verse 8