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Some never rise to heights of thought and feeling
But in the stagnant air below abide,
Impenetrable clouds arise concealing
The purity they to themselves denied.

Living like beasts, no higher thought possessing
Than base iniquity or selfish gain,
No wish for good in all their lives expressing,
Ah! who can say they do not live in vain?

What though they move among the higher classes
In social life and live in splendid state,
Not always he, who most of wealth amasses,
When measured mind and soul, is truly great.

But they who live above earth's vile pollution
Whose outward things are not their greatest worth,
Whether in public life or home seclusion,
These are the true nobility of earth.

Whether the gentle hand that rocks the cradle,
Or that that sways the mighty powers of state,
Ennobling virtue shall alone be able
To make the dens of evil desolate.

Virtue toils on, above the clouds impending,
To heights all sparkling in the sunlight's glow;
Up, onward, to a purer air ascending,
Leaving the crowd submerged in fogs below.

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