THE PEOPLE
 
 "WHAT have I earned for all that work,' I said,
 'For all that I have done at my own charge?
 The daily spite of this unmannerly town,
 Where who has served the most is most defaned,
 The reputation of his lifetime lost
 Between the night and morning.  I might have lived,
 And you know well how great the longing has been,
 Where every day my footfall Should have lit
 In the green shadow of Ferrara wall;
 Or climbed among the images of the past –
 The unperturbed and courtly images –
 Evening and morning, the steep street of Urbino
 To where the Duchess and her people talked
 The stately midnight through until they stood
 In their great window looking at the dawn;
 I might have had no friend that could not mix
 Courtesy and passion into one like those
 That saw the wicks grow yellow in the dawn;
 I might have used the one substantial right
 My trade allows:  chosen my company,
 And chosen what scenery had pleased me best.
 Thereon my phoenix answered in reproof,
 "The drunkards, pilferers of public funds,
 All the dishonest crowd I had driven away,
 When my luck changed and they dared meet my face,
 Crawled from obscurity, and set upon me
 Those I had served and some that I had fed;
 Yet never have I, now nor any time,
 Complained of the people.'
 All I could reply
 Was:  "You, that have not lived in thought but deed,
 Can have the purity of a natural force,
 But I, whose virtues are the definitions
 Of the analytic mind, can neither close
 The eye of the mind nor keep my tongue from speech.'
 And yet, because my heart leaped at her words,
 I was abashed, and now they come to mind
 After nine years, I sink my head abashed.