I was not beloved of the villagers, <br />But all because I spoke my mind, <br />And met those who transgressed against me <br />With plain remonstrance, hiding nor nurturing <br />Nor secret griefs nor grudges. <br />That act of the Spartan boy is greatly praised, <br />Who hid the wolf under his cloak, <br />Letting it devour him, uncomplainingly. <br />It is braver, I think, to snatch the wolf forth <br />And fight him openly, even in the street, <br />Amid dust and howls of pain. <br />The tongue may be an unruly member -- <br />But silence poisons the soul. <br />Berate me who will -- I am content.<br /><br />Edgar Lee Masters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dorcas-gustine/
