To sit on History in an easy chair, <br />Still rivalling the wild hordes by whom 'twas writ! <br />Sure, this beseems a race of laggard wit, <br />Unwarned by those plain letters scrawled on air. <br />If more than hands' and armsful be our share, <br />Snatch we for substance we see vapours flit. <br />Have we not heard derision infinite <br />When old men play the youth to chase the snare? <br />Let us be belted athletes, matched for foes, <br />Or stand aloof, the great Benevolent, <br />The Lord of Lands no Robber-birds annex, <br />Where Justice holds the scales with pure intent; <br />Armed to support her sword;--lest we compose <br />That Chapter for the historic word on Wrecks.<br /><br />George Meredith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/outside-the-crowd/
