I made my choice: 'Twas children or my voice; Now it is gone I sit here sad, alone. No one to care Whither I go, or where I spend the years; They end at last in tears. Forgot my name; Impermanent is fame. How dare I teach Ambitious youth to reach For such a prize, When at the end there lies Bitter regret, Forgetfulness? And yet Still in my ears The plaudits of my peers Fill lonely days With their remembered praise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WRITTEN AFTER SWIMMING FROM SESTOS TO ABYDOS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON RHAPSODY ON A WINDY NIGHT by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT SONNET: 12 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE TO A COUNTRY HOTEL TOWEL by ELMER CLEVELAND ADAMS AN EPISTLE TO CURIO by MARK AKENSIDE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 28. AS-BAZIR by EDWIN ARNOLD |