the truest purpose

there are no gifts that have not been earned
nothing comes easy but that which comes belongs
not to the multitudes not to the great throngs
but to those who worked and swore and yearned
those who were not for one minute turned
from the right path by thoughts of ill and wrongs
but in their hearts kept going the old soft songs
and for the goal with greatest ardour burned
now in the morning though the sky be grey
inside each human heart it's a bright sunlit blue
the story's known although it's not been told
this is the proper time and the due noble day
it matter's little what shade or what outer hue
the heart is filled with warmth the mind with gold