However certain of the way thou art, Take not the self-appointed leader’s part. Follow no man, and by no man be led, And no man lead. _Awake_, and go ahead. Thy path, though leading straight unto the goal Might prove confusing to another soul. The goal is central; but from east, and west, And north, and south, we set out on the quest; From lofty mountains, and from valleys low:— How could all find one common way to go?
Lord Buddha to the wilderness was brought. Lord Jesus to the Cross. And yet, think not By solitude, or cross, thou canst achieve, Lest in thine own true Self thou dost believe. Know thou art One, with life’s Almighty Source, Then are thy feet set on the certain Course.
Nor does it matter if thou feast, or fast, Or what thy creed—or where thy lot is cast; In halls of pleasure or in crowded mart, In city streets, or from all men apart— Thy path leads to the Light; and peace and power Shall be thy portion, growing hour by hour. Follow no man, and by no man be led. And no man lead. But _know_ and go ahead.
What shall the leader be in that great day When we who sleep and dream that we are slaves Shall wake and know that Liberty is ours? Mark well that word—not yours, not mine, but ours. For through the mingling of the separate streams Of individual protest and desire, In one united sea of purpose, lies The course to Freedom.
When Progression takes Her undisputed right of way, and sinks The old traditions and conventions where They may not rise, what shall the leader be?
No mighty warrior skilled in crafts of war, Sowing earth’s fertile furrows with dead men And staining crimson God’s cerulean sea, To prove his prowess to a shuddering world.
Nor yet a monarch with a silly crown Perched on an empty head, an in-bred heir To senseless titles and anemic blood.
No ruler, purchased by the perjured votes Of striving demagogues whose god is gold. Not one of these shall lead to Liberty. The weakness of the world cries out for strength. The sorrow of the world cries out for hope. Its suffering cries for kindness.
He who leads Must then be strong and hopeful as the dawn That rises unafraid and full of joy Above the blackness of the darkest night. He must be kind to every living thing; Kind as the Krishna, Buddha and the Christ, And full of love for all created life. Oh, not in war shall his great prowess lie, Nor shall he find his pleasure in the chase. Too great for slaughter, friend of man and beast, Touching the borders of the Unseen Realms And bringing down to earth their mystic fires To light our troubled pathways, wise and kind And human to the core, so shall he be, The coming leader of the coming time.