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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381350" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Leffingwell</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I—THE LURE</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No, no,—forget your Cricket and your Ant, <br>For I shall never set my name to theirs <br>That now bespeak the very sons and heirs <br>Incarnate of Queen Gossip and King Cant. <br>The case of Leffingwell is mixed, I grant,<br>And futile Seems the burden that he bears; <br>But are we sounding his forlorn affairs <br>Who brand him parasite and sycophant? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I tell you, Leffingwell was more than these; <br>And if he prove a rather sorry knight,<br>What quiverings in the distance of what light <br>May not have lured him with high promises, <br>And then gone down?—He may have been deceived; <br>He may have lied,—he did; and he believed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II—THE QUICKSTEP</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The dirge is over, the good work is done,<br>All as he would have had it, and we go; <br>And we who leave him say we do not know <br>How much is ended or how much begun. <br>So men have said before of many a one; <br>So men may say of us when Time shall throw<br>Such earth as may be needful to bestow <br>On you and me the covering hush we shun. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well hated, better loved, he played and lost, <br>And left us; and we smile at his arrears; <br>And who are we to know what it all cost,<br>Or what we may have wrung from him, the buyer? <br>The pageant of his failure-laden years <br>Told ruin of high price. The place was higher. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>III—REQUIESCAT</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We never knew the sorrow or the pain <br>Within him, for he seemed as one asleep—<br>Until he faced us with a dying leap, <br>And with a blast of paramount, profane, <br>And vehement valediction did explain <br>To each of us, in words that we shall keep, <br>Why we were not to wonder or to weep,<br>Or ever dare to wish him back again. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He may be now an amiable shade, <br>With merry fellow-phantoms unafraid <br>Around him—but we do not ask. We know <br>That he would rise and haunt us horribly,<br>And be with us o’ nights of a certainty. <br>Did we not hear him when he told us so?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edwin+Arlington+Robinson">Edwin Arlington Robinson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381350" data-title="Leffingwell de Edwin Arlington Robinson" data-description="I—THE LURE

No, no,—forget your Cricket and your Ant, 
For I shall never set my name to theirs 
That now bespeak the very sons and heirs 
Incarnate of Queen Gossip and King Cant. 
The case of Leffingwell is mixed, I grant,
And futile Seems the..."></div>
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