Twin-Born

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He who possesses virtue at its best,

Or greatness in the true sense of the word,

Has one day started even with that herd

Whose swift feet now speed but at sin's behest.

It is the same force in the human breast

Which makes men gods or demons. If we gird

Those strong emotions by which we are stirred

With might of will and purpose, heights unguessed

Shall dawn for us; or if we give them sway

We can sink down and consort with the lost.

All virtue is worth just the price it cost.

Black sin is oft white truth that missed its way

And wandered off in paths not understood.

Twin-born I hold great evil and great good.

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler