The Will O' The Wisp 2/3
This is a continuation of the first part of this poem, published earlier here.
‘You get me wrong, sir’
The wisp, with a disappointed gesture, replied,
‘I do not seek to lead a whole race of men,
That dauntless generation, which made unworthiness of rhyme.
If you wish however, to listen, I shall explain to you,
For the day you be at your most confusing
Is that which you shall understand the best.
Mediocrity, I shall tell you, gives the tightest of hugs,
Which sways thousands, artlessly, of it to seek an embrace.’
‘Do you think, sir,’ continued the wisp,
‘Being a wisp that I am, I do not know of the strengths
Which men draw from their fears,
As a gentle breeze stokes the naked fire,
And a violent one ceases it.
Allow me lead you towards your fears, sir—towards your future.