A Politician
Don Marquis
Leader no more, be judged of us!
Hailed Chief, and loved, of yore—
Youth, and the faith of youth, cry out:
Leader and Chief no more!
We dreamed a Prophet, flushed with faith,
Content to toil in pain
If that his sacrifice might be,
Somehow, his people’s gain.
We saw a vision, and our blood
Beat red and hot and strong:
“Lead us (we cried) to war against
Some foul, embattled wrong!”
We dreamed a Warrior whose sword
Was edged for sham and shame;
We dreamed a Statesman far above
The vulgar lust for fame.
We were not cynics, and we dreamed
A Man who made no truce
With lies nor ancient privilege
Nor old, entrenched abuse.
We dreamed . . . we dreamed . . . Youth dreamed
a dream!
And even you forgot
Yourself, one moment, and dreamed, too—
Struck, while your mood was hot!
Struck three or four good blows . . . and then
Turned back to easier things:
The cheap applause, the blatant mob,
The praise of underlings!
Praise . . . praise . . . was ever man so filled,
So avid still, of praise?
So hungry for the crowd’s acclaim,
The sycophantic phrase?
O you whom Greatness beckoned to . . .
O swollen Littleness
Who turned from Immortality
To fawn upon Success!
O blind with love of self, who led
Youth’s vision to defeat,
Bawling and brawling for rewards,
Loud, in the common street!
O you who were so quick to judge—
Leader, and loved, of yore—
Hear now the judgment of our youth:
Leader and Chief no more!
