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 Or vast reward. I saw myself, even then, A light for no high shining; and I feared No boy or man—having, in truth, no cause. I was enough a leader to be free, And not enough a hero to be jealous. Having eyes and ears, I knew that I was envied, And as a proper sort of compensation Had envy of my own for two or three— But never felt, and surely never gave, The wound of any more malevolence Than decent youth, defeated for a day, May take to bed with him and kill with sleep. So, and so far, my days were going well, And would have gone so, but for the black tiger That many of us fancy is in waiting, But waits for most of us in fancy only. For me there was no fancy in his coming,