Haute Politique, La

I SAILED in fancy by a beach of gold,
Toward a golden city like a star,
That quivered on the morning from afar —
Turrets and domes and airy spires untold.
But when I neared the marble quays, behold,
Offal and ordure; lurking Shames, that mar
The affronted sunlight; Plagues that deadliest are;
And ancient Tribulations manifold.

So fair, so foul, I said, the craft of State!
Such is the glory, such the light that clings
About the footsteps and the deeds of kings;
And in the shadow Terror sits, and Hate;
The lazars crouch, the bravo lies in wait;
And mocked is heaven with all unheavenly things.
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