TO HALL B. RAND

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Happy the man whose age attains
Repute and rank among the best!
Whose soul no breath of rumor stains
Nor hath remorse for daily guest.
On him the years as laurels sit,
For Duty at his side hath stood;
Thro him the grateful gods permit
A living witness unto good.
Him shall the love of men surround,
And wisdom shield from darker cares,
Who virtue to the end hath found
And honor whiter than his hairs.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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