LEADER no more, be judged of us!
Hailed Chief, and loved, of yore--Youth, and the faith of youth, cry out:
Leader and Chief no more!
We dreamed a Prophet, flushed with faith, Content to toil in pain If that his sacrifice might be, Somehow, his people's gain.
We saw a vision, and our blood Beat red and hot and strong:
"Lead us (we cried) to war against Some foul, embattled wrong!"
We dreamed a Warrior whose sword Was edged for sham and shame;
We dreamed a Statesman far above The vulgar lust for fame.
We were not cynics, and we dreamed A Man who made no truce With lies nor ancient privilege Nor old, entrenched abuse.
We dreamed . . . we dreamed . . . Youth dreamed a dream!
And even you forgot Yourself, one moment, and dreamed, too--Struck, while your mood was hot!
Struck three or four good blows . . . and then Turned back to easier things:
The cheap applause, the blatant mob, The praise of underlings!
Praise . . . praise . . . was ever man so filled, So avid still, of praise?
So hungry for the crowd's acclaim, The sycophantic phrase?
O you whom Greatness beckoned to . . .
O swollen Littleness Who turned from Immortality To fawn upon Success!
O blind with love of self, who led Youth's vision to defeat, Bawling and brawling for rewards, Loud, in the common street!
O you who were so quick to judge--Leader, and loved, of yore--Hear now the judgment of our youth:
Leader and Chief no more!
