I <br /> <br />All you that are enamored of my name <br />And least intent on what most I require, <br />Beware; for my design and your desire, <br />Deplorably, are not as yet the same. <br /> <br />Beware, I say, the failure and the shame <br />Of losing that for which you now aspire <br />So blindly, and of hazarding entire <br />The gift that I was bringing when I came. <br /> <br />Give as I will, I cannot give you sight <br />Whereby to see that with you there are some <br />To lead you, and be led. But they are dumb <br />Before the wrangling and the shrill delight <br />Of your deliverance that has not come, <br />And shall not, if I fail you—as I might. <br /> <br /> <br />II <br /> <br />So little have you seen of what awaits <br />Your fevered glimpse of a democracy <br />Confused and foiled with an equality <br />Not equal to the envy it creates, <br />That you see not how near you are the gates <br />Of an old king who listens fearfully <br />To you that are outside and are to be <br />The noisy lords of imminent estates. <br /> <br />Rather be then your prayer that you shall have <br />Your kingdom undishonored. Having all, <br />See not the great among you for the small, <br />But hear their silence; for the few shall save <br />The many, or the many are to fall— <br />Still to be wrangling in a noisy grave.<br /><br />Edwin Arlington Robinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/demos/
