Published in 1845 in the collection Dramatic Poems and Lyrics, Robert Browning's "The Lost Leader" is a political poem about a writer who has betrayed his ideals. It was immediately understood as an attack on Browning's fellow poet William Wordsworth, a previously radical writer who had grown conservative in his later years and accepted honors from a monarchy he once opposed. Without addressing Wordsworth by name, the poem accuses him of abandoning his progressive beliefs and turning his back on everyone who had "loved" and "followed" him. It has remained a memorable takedown of the kind of leader who sells out their cause for personal gain.
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1Just for a handful of silver he left us,
2Just for a riband to stick in his coat—
3Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
4Lost all the others she lets us devote;
5They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
6So much was theirs who so little allowed:
7How all our copper had gone for his service!
8Rags—were they purple, his heart had been proud!
9We that had loved him so, followed him, honoured him,
10Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,
11Learned his great language, caught his clear accents,
12Made him our pattern to live and to die!
13Shakespeare was of us, Milton was for us,
14Burns, Shelley, were with us,—they watch from their graves!
15He alone breaks from the van and the freemen,
16—He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves!
17We shall march prospering,—not thro' his presence;
18Songs may inspirit us,—not from his lyre;
19Deeds will be done,—while he boasts his quiescence,
20Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire:
21Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,
22One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,
23One more devils'-triumph and sorrow for angels,
24One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
25Life's night begins: let him never come back to us!
26There would be doubt, hesitation and pain,
27Forced praise on our part—the glimmer of twilight,
28Never glad confident morning again!
29Best fight on well, for we taught him—strike gallantly,
30Menace our heart ere we master his own;
31Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us,
32Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne!
1Just for a handful of silver he left us,
2Just for a riband to stick in his coat—
3Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
4Lost all the others she lets us devote;
5They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
6So much was theirs who so little allowed:
7How all our copper had gone for his service!
8Rags—were they purple, his heart had been proud!
9We that had loved him so, followed him, honoured him,
10Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,
11Learned his great language, caught his clear accents,
12Made him our pattern to live and to die!
13Shakespeare was of us, Milton was for us,
14Burns, Shelley, were with us,—they watch from their graves!
15He alone breaks from the van and the freemen,
16—He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves!
17We shall march prospering,—not thro' his presence;
18Songs may inspirit us,—not from his lyre;
19Deeds will be done,—while he boasts his quiescence,
20Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire:
21Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,
22One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,
23One more devils'-triumph and sorrow for angels,
24One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
25Life's night begins: let him never come back to us!
26There would be doubt, hesitation and pain,
27Forced praise on our part—the glimmer of twilight,
28Never glad confident morning again!
29Best fight on well, for we taught him—strike gallantly,
30Menace our heart ere we master his own;
31Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us,
32Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne!
Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a riband to stick in his coat—
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others she lets us devote;
They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
So much was theirs who so little allowed:
How all our copper had gone for his service!
Rags—were they purple, his heart had been proud!
We that had loved him so, followed him, honoured him,
Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,
Learned his great language, caught his clear accents,
Made him our pattern to live and to die!
Shakespeare was of us, Milton was for us,
Burns, Shelley, were with us,—they watch from their graves!
He alone breaks from the van and the freemen,
—He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves!
We shall march prospering,—not thro' his presence;
Songs may inspirit us,—not from his lyre;
Deeds will be done,—while he boasts his quiescence,
Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire:
Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,
One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,
One more devils'-triumph and sorrow for angels,
One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
Life's night begins: let him never come back to us!
There would be doubt, hesitation and pain,
Forced praise on our part—the glimmer of twilight,
Never glad confident morning again!
Best fight on well, for we taught him—strike gallantly,
Menace our heart ere we master his own;
Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us,
Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne!
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
Wordsworth's Politics — More on William Wordsworth's shifting political views, as lamented in "The Lost Leader."
More Browning Resources — Browse more Browning-related media at the Internet Archive.
A Source for the Poem — Read "The Warning," a political poem by William Wordsworth that appears to have motivated Browning's attack.
The Poem's Target — A brief biography of the poem's target, William Wordsworth, with context on the change in his political views.
The Poem Aloud — Listen to a reading of "The Lost Leader."
About the Poet — More on Robert Browning's life and work, via the Poetry Foundation.