The Master was searching for a vessel to use. On the shelf there were many, which one would He choose?
Take me, cried the gold one, I'm shiny and bright. I'm of great value and I do things just right.
My beauty and lustre will outshine the rest. And for someone like You, gold would be the best!
The Master passed on with no word at all. He looked at a silver urn, narrow and tall.
I'll serve You, dear Master, I'll pour out Your wine. And I'll be at Your table whenever You dine.
My lines are so graceful, my carvings so true. And my silver will always compliment You.
Unheeding the Master passed on to the brass. It was widemouthed and shallow, and polished like glass.
Here! Here! cried the vessel, I know I will do. Place me on Your table for all men to view.