Be true, be true! whate'er beside
Of wit, or wealth, or rank be thine,
Unless with simple truth allied,
The gold that glitters in thy mind
Is only dross, the brass of pride
Or vainer tinsel, made to shine.

Be true, be true! the prize of earth
From God alike with man forsooth,
The real nobility of birth
To age, maturity, or youth,
The very crown of creature-worth,
Is easy, guileless, open Truth.

Be true, be true! to nerve your arm
For any good ye wish to do;
To save yourselves from sin and harm,
And win all honours old and new;
To work on hearts as with a charm,--
The maxim is, Be true, be true!

Be true, be true! that easy prize
So loveable to human view,
So laudable beyond the skies,
Alas! is reach'd by very few--
The simple ones, though more than wise,
Whose motto is, Be true, be true!