HOW many clean hearts beat beneath uncomely rags;
How many pure lives are there for bread in sorrow

  beg.

Oh, that the world could merit find in seas of dark

  despair; Like gems from ocean's deep, in social life to glare.
 

That souls abashed and cowering may stand in man-

  hood's charm;

May stand ever forgetting his dread of foul alarm.
 
That men of little merit and yet of meaner worth,
Could get from out the dazzle and feel they are a curse.
 
That earth may find her heroes all meriting her fame,
And crown them with her laurels, immortalize their

  name.

 
Then each unto his level may quiet settle down,
Deserving each his portion of much or no renown.
 
Let merit stand undaunted, unmoved by earthly gain;
While reaching forth her pinions she breaks her fet-

  tered chain.

 
Then each here best deserving, his lot in earth

  assigned;

The world will be more happy when light shall lead

  the blind.

^__James A. DeMoss