"Within my earthly temple there's a crowd:
There's one of us that's humble, one that's proud;
There's one that's broken-hearted for his sins
And one who unrepented sits and grins;
There's one who loves his neighbour as himself,
And one who cares naught but fame and self.
From much corroding care I should be free,
If once I could determine which is me."
From A Little Brother of the Rich, and Other Verse,
by Edward Sandord Martin
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