To A Politician

By Edward Dyson

There was a moment when of you

  A splendid hope I had to tell,

Believing "Here is one man who

  Will serve our waiting country well."

I saw you sedulous and keen,

  I heard the burning words you spoke.

It seemed that you were hard and clean,

  And rapier sharp your every stroke.

Then came success, and in a night

  An impish thing you stood apart,

All empty-handed for the fight,

  With worse, alas! an empty heart.

Success had spoiled you, said your friends,

  It was not so, for naught was there

To spoil but means to petty ends.

  At last men saw you bleak and bare.

In those who give you grudging aid

  These days, may we the spirits see

Who for the love of men would raid

  The strongholds of iniquity?

Are these the heroes high and true,

  Who, seeing right with honest eyes,

Will risk their all in putting through

  Democracy's stern Enterprise?

You had no wealth of love.  You failed

  For that.  Your heart may never cling

To men upon their crosses nailed,

  To brothers sadly travailing.