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But Justice shines in smoke-grimed habitations,
And honours the well-omened life;
While, -- gold-besprinkled stations
Where the hands' filth is rife,
With backward-turning eyes
Leaving, -- to holy seats she hies,
Not worshipping the power of wealth
Stamped with applause by stealth:
And to its end directs each thing begun.

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load focus English (Herbert Weir Smyth, Ph. D., 1926)
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