Michael Robartes and the Dancer/The Leaders of the Crowd
THE LEADERS OF THE CROWDThey must to keep their certainty accuseAll that are different of a base intent;Pull down established honour; hawk for newsWhatever their loose phantasy inventAnd murmur it with bated breath, as thoughThe abounding gutter had been HeliconOr calumny a song. How can they knowTruth flourishes where the student’s lamp has shone,And there alone, that have no solitude?So the crowd come they care not what may come.They have loud music, hope every day renewedAnd heartier loves; that lamp is from the tomb.