Summa

The best ideal is the true
And other truth is none.
All glory be ascribed to
The holy Three in One.

Man is most low, God is most high.
As sure as heaven it is┬░
There must be something to supply
All insufficiencies.
For souls that might have blessed the time┬░
And breathed delightful breath
In sordidness of care and crime
The city tires to death.
And faces fit for leisure gaze
And daylight and sweet air,
Missing prosperity and praise,
Are never known for fair.
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