A CURL, a scarf-pin, or some foolish thing, Sets all the world awry; 'T was so when gay old Horace lived and loved, And will be so for aye. His life wise Seneca destroyed, to please A graceless royal rogue: To kill a sage to glad a brutal king, Was good old Roman vogue. Two thousand years have flown, and we, alas! Are as our fathers were, For wealth of mind and heart are little worth,— Gold sets the world astir. |