So little have you seen of what awaits
  Your fevered glimpse of a democracy
  Confused and foiled with an equality
Not equal to the envy it creates,
That you see not how near you are the gates
  Of an old king who listens fearfully
  To you that are outside and are to be
The noisy lords of imminent estates.
Rather be then your prayer that you shall have
  Your kingdom undishonored. Having all,
  See not the great among you for the small,
But hear their silence; for the few shall save
  The many, or the many are to fall —
Still to be wrangling in a noisy grave.