Page:The Poetical Works of Thomas Parnell (1833).djvu/160

32 'Thus some are born, my son,' she cries, 'With base impediments to rise,
 * And some are born with none.

'But virtue can itself advance To what the favourite fools of chance
 * By fortune seem'd design'd;

Virtue can gain the odds of fate, And from itself shake off the weight
 * Upon th' unworthy mind.'