He had a startling genius, but somehow it did nt emerge; Always on the evolution of things that would nt evolve; Always verging toward some climax, but he never reached the verge; Always nearing the solution of some theme he could not solve.
A hundred thousand men were led By one calf near three centuries dead; They followed still his crooked way And lost a hundred years a day; For thus such reverence is lent To well-established precedent.
Note 1. Disraeli: Henrietta Temple. What we anticipate seldom occurs. Lowell. Page 741. [back]