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Next: THE LOOKER-ON.
THE LOST GAME.
Came the big children to the little ones, And unto them full pleasantly did say, “Lo! we have spread for you a merry game, And ye shall all be winners at the same. Come now and play!” Great is the game they enter in,— Rouge et Noir on a giant scale,— Red with blood and black with sin, Where many must lose and few may win, And the players never fail! Said the strong children to the weaker ones, “See, ye are many, and we are but few! The mass of all the counters ye divide, But few remain to share upon our side. Play—as we do!” Strange is the game they enter in,— Rouge et Noir on a field of pain! And the silver white and the yellow gold Pile and pile in the victor’s hold, While the many play in vain! Said the weak children to the stronger ones, “See now, howe’er it fall, we lose our share! And play we well or ill we always lose; While ye gain always more than ye can use. Bethink ye—is it fair?” Strange is the game they enter in,— Rouge et Noir, and the bank is strong! Play they well or play they wide The gold is still on the banker’s side, And the game endureth long. Said the strong children, each aside to each, “The game is slow—our gains are all too small! Play we together now, ’gainst them apart; So shall these dull ones lose it from the start, And we shall gain it all!” Strange is the game that now they win,— Rouge et Noir with a new design! What can the many players do Whose wits are weak and counters few When the Power and the Gold combine? Said the weak children to the stronger ones, “We care not for the game! For play as we may our chance is small, And play as ye may ye have it all. The end’s the same!” Strange is the game the world doth play,— Rouge et Noir, with the counters gold, Red with blood and black with sin; Few and fewer are they that win As the ages pass untold. Said the strong children to the weaker ones, “Ye lose in laziness! ye lose in sleep! Play faster now and make the counters spin! Play well, as we, and ye in time shall win! Play fast! Play deep!” Strange is the game of Rouge et Noir,— Never a point have the little ones won. The winners are strong and flushed with gain, The losers are weak with want and pain, And still the game goes on. But those rich players grew so very few, So many grew the poor ones, that one day They rose up from that table, side by side, Calm, countless, terrible—they rose and cried In one great voice that shook the heavens wide, “We will not play!” Where is the game of Rouge et Noir? Where is the wealth of yesterday? What availeth the power ye tell, And the skill in the game ye play so well? If the players will not play?
Previous: THE MARCH.
Next: THE LOOKER-ON.