You would not be great
It would still be your fate
To seize your smallness
And to cleave to little things
To question what is great
Greatness with its use-by date
Its puffed-up follies
And its hopes too late
When to be small is all
To be of no account
And to have longed to fall
To let this be your greatness
To have stood with what is small
To be no one above all
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