Not from the palaces of kings,
Nor fortune's sunny clime,
Came the great souls, whose life-work flings
Luster o'er earth and time.
For truth with tireless zeal they sought;
In joyless paths they trod—
Heedless of praise or blame they wrought,
And left the rest to God.
The lowliest sphere was not disdained;
Where love could soothe or save,