The Civil Servant

I know that the pill is bitter
And doubly so as you’re young
But it’s one that ought to be eaten
For the taste is just on the tongue:
And when the thing is digested,
Dispersed from your head to your foot,
You can writhe in a sea of self pity
About that, up with which, you must put.
You can tell all your friends you’re a martyr,
But comply with the rules all along
And you’ll know that the head that is severed
Won’t be yours when something goes wrong;
But, best, at the heart of the matter,
You can feel justly proud deep inside
Of the time when you acted so nobly,
Pinched your nose and swallowed your pride.