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Poem by Lewis Morris


THERE are who, bending supple knees,
Live for no end except to please,
Rising to fame by mean degrees ;
But creep not thou with these.

They have their due reward ; they bend
Their lives to an unworthy end
On empty aims the pains expend
Which had knit close a friend.

But be not thou as these, whose mind
Is to the passing hour confined ;
Let no ignoble fetters bind
Thy soul, as free as wind.

Stand upright, speak thy thought, declare
The truth thou hast that all may share ;
Be bold, proclaim it everywhere:
They only live who dare. 

Lewis Morris

Lewis Morris's other poems:
  1. To a Child of Fancy
  2. A Hymn in Time of Idols
  3. In Regent Street
  4. The New Order
  5. The Living Past

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