We have seen mighty men ballooning high, <br />And in another moment bump the ground. <br />He falls; and in his measurement is found <br />To count some inches o'er the common fry. <br />'Twas not enough to send him climbing sky, <br />Yet 'twas enough above his fellows crowned, <br />Had he less panted. Let his faithful hound <br />Bark at detractors. He may walk or lie. <br />Concerns it most ourselves, who with our gas - <br />This little Isle's insatiable greed <br />For Continents--filled to inflation burst. <br />So do ripe nations into squalor pass, <br />When, driven as herds by their old private thirst, <br />They scorn the brain's wild search for virtuous light.<br /><br />George Meredith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-warning-8/
