A hated tyrant falls; a fierce plot tears
The webs of power; war rumors cross the sea;
A crisis  -  yet my fingers tap no key.
After a life well crammed with public cares,
How strange to stand apart from world affairs
And let, like other men, what is to be
Occur without one warning word from me!
No more to deal in daily threats and scares,
Cluck round events like anxious, brooding hen;
No more snatch headlines, seize the jigging tape,
Dash comment out, explain, or analyse!
I sit and muse at last, like other men,
Read books, walk forth and watch the clouds take
        shape.
The great may do or die; I poetize.
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