The Master played the bishop’s pawn, <br />For jest, while Atherton looked on; <br />The master played this way and that, <br />And Atherton, amazed thereat, <br />Said “Now I have a thing in view <br />That will enlighten one or two, <br />And make a difference or so <br />In what it is they do not know.” <br /> <br />The morning stars together sang <br />And forth a mighty music rang— <br />Not heard by many, save as told <br />Again through magic manifold <br />By such a few as have to play <br />For others, in the Master’s way, <br />The music that the Master made <br />When all the morning stars obeyed. <br /> <br />Atherton played the bishop’s pawn <br />While more than one or two looked on; <br />Atherton played this way and that, <br />And many a friend, amused thereat, <br />Went on about his business <br />Nor cared for Atherton the less; <br />A few stood longer by the game, <br />With Atherton to them the same. <br /> <br />The morning stars are singing still, <br />To crown, to challenge, and to kill; <br />And if perforce there falls a voice <br />On pious ears that have no choice <br />Except to urge an erring hand <br />To wreak its homage on the land, <br />Who of us that is worth his while <br />Will, if he listen, more than smile? <br /> <br />Who of us, being what he is, <br />May scoff at others’ ecstasies? <br />However we may shine to-day, <br />More-shining ones are on the way; <br />And so it were not wholly well <br />To be at odds with Azrael,— <br />Nor were it kind of any one <br />To sing the end of Atherton.<br /><br />Edwin Arlington Robinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/atherton-s-gambit/
