In their high place, and fill the golden cup,

God-blest for kings, with wine of endless years,
And greet him one with them. O brotherhood
Of envious dullards, ye are wroth with good.






THE ANOINTED ONES
Why, let them rail! God's full anointed ones
Have heard the world exclaim, "We know you not."
They who by their souls' travailing have brought
Us nearer to the wonder of the suns.

Yet, who can stay the passage of the stars?
Who can prevail against the thunder-sound?
The wire that flashes lightning to the ground
Diverts, but not its potency debars.

So, men may strike quick stabs at Caesar's worth,--
They only make his life an endless force,
'Scaped from its penthouse, flashing through the earth,

And 'whelming those who railed about his Gorse.
Men's moods disturb not those born truly great:
They know their end; they can afford to wait.