I. I NEVER thirsted for the Golden Flood, Which o'er Pactolus' wealthy sands does roll, From whence the covetous mind receives no good, But rather swells the dropsy of his soul. II. On palaces why should I set my mind, Imprison'd in this body's mould'ring clay? Ere long to poor six foot of earth confin'd, Whose bones must crumble at the fatal day. III. Titles and pedigrees, what are they to me, Or honour gain'd by our forefathers' toil, The sport of Fate, whose gaudiest pageantry Lethe will wash out, dark Oblivion soil? IV. Why then, my soul, who fain wouldst be at ease, Should the World's glory dazzle thy bright eye? Thyself with vain applause why shouldst thou please, Or dote on Fame, which fools may take from thee? V. Praise after death is but a pleasant dream, The Dead fare ne'er the worse for ill report; The Ghosts below know nothing of a name, Nor ever popular caresses court. VI. Give me the lasting Good, Virtue, that flies Above the clouds, that tramples on dull earth, Exempt from Fate's tumultuous mutinies, Virtue, that cannot need a second birth. VII. All other things must bend their heads to Time, By age's mighty torrent borne away, Hereafter no more thought on than my rhyme, Or faery kingdoms in Utopia. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DESPAIR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: REV. LEMUEL WILEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 12. A RENUNCIATION by THOMAS CAMPION ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 47 by PHILIP SIDNEY DOLORES by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |