THE LEADERS OF THE CROWD
 
 THEY must to keep their certainty accuse
 All that are different of a base intent;
 Pull down established honour; hawk for news
 Whatever their loose fantasy invent
 And murmur it with bated breath, as though
 The abounding gutter had been Helicon
 Or calumny a song.  How can they know
 Truth flourishes where the student's lamp has shone,
 And there alone, that have no Solitude?
 So the crowd come they care not what may come.
 They have loud music, hope every day renewed
 And heartier loves; that lamp is from the tomb.