The Badge of Men

"In shuttered rooms let others grieve,
And coffin thought in speech of lead;
I'll tie my heart upon my sleeve:
It is the Badge of Men," he said.

His friends forsook him: "Who was he!"
Even beggars passed him with a grin:
Physicians called it lunacy;
And priests, the unpardonable sin.

He strove, he struck for standing-ground:
They beat him humbled from the field;
For though his sword was keen, he found
His mangled heart a feeble shield.

He slunk away, and sadly sought
The wilderness — false friend of woe.
"Man is The Enemy," he thought;
But Nature proved a fiercer foe:

The vampire sucked, the vulture tore,
And the old dragon left its den,
Agape to taste the thing he wore —
The ragged, bleeding Badge of Men.

"Against the Fates there steads no charm,
For every force takes its own part:
I'll wear a buckler on my arm,
And in my bosom hide my heart!"

But in his bosom prisoned fast
It pained him more than when it beat
Upon his sleeve; and so he cast
His trouble to the ghouls to eat.

Back to the city, there and then
He ran; and saw, through all disguise,
On every sleeve the Badge of Men:
For truth appears to cruel eyes.

Straight with his sword he laid about,
And hacked and pierced their hearts, until
The beaten terror-stricken rout
Begged on their knees to know his will.

He said, "I neither love nor hate;
I would command in everything."
They answered him, "Heartless and great!
Your slaves we are: be you our king!"