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Page 3
Gervase became a great
man in his clique.
They told the world so most vociferously;
But the world did not listen much at first.
In after years, when they explained to it
How much he could have done if he had cared,
And would have done if things had happened right,
And partly did and partly planned to do,
The world was more impressed and spoke his name
Complacently, as a proud father boasts
"My youngest son, Sir, a wild self-willed dog,
Would study or would not just when he chose
And how he chose, or else he would have been
First of his year, prizeman in everything -
Too sharp in fact, ('twixt you and me), to pin
His mind to pedant rules; and so he failed."
And that's as sweet as any kind of fame,
For it awakes no jealousies, and each
Who praises shows his own rare competence
To catch the sparkle in the uncut gem,
Hints too that he himself wears in his sleeve
An uncut gem of genius very like
By which he recognized it; and so praise
Kings roundly out and every one is pleased.
Such honour Gervase had, and, had he died
In the young spring of saptime, would have been
Immortal for at least a score of years.
But he, as if a bulb which you have nursed
For some rare tulip should put forth its spikes
A common useful onion, growing ripe
Betrayed his serviceable worth and kind,
And was, nor poet nor philosopher,
But just a clever eager-hearted man,
With work in him if the world wanted work,
And pleasant music if his friends asked songs.
And so he shed his glory while he passed
What he had been when he was clothed in it;
As lime-buds lose their little rosy wings
By opening out in leafage.
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