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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
All other glories are as falling stars,
But universal Nature watching theirs:
Such strength is won by love of human kind.
But universal Nature watching theirs:
Such strength is won by love of human kind.
Not that I feel that hunger after fame,
Which souls of a half-greatness are beset with;
But that the memory of noble deeds
Cries, shame upon the idle and the vile,
And keeps the heart of Man for ever up
To the heroic level of old time.
To be forgot at first is little pain
To a heart conscious of such high intent
As must be deathless on the lips of men;
But, having been a name, to sink and be
A something which the world can do without,
Which, having been or not, would never change
The lightest pulse of fate,—this is indeed
A cup of bitterness the worst to taste,
And this thy heart shall empty to the dregs,
Endless despair shall be thy Caucasus
And memory thy vulture; thou wilt find
Oblivion far lonelier than this peak,—
Which souls of a half-greatness are beset with;
But that the memory of noble deeds
Cries, shame upon the idle and the vile,
And keeps the heart of Man for ever up
To the heroic level of old time.
To be forgot at first is little pain
To a heart conscious of such high intent
As must be deathless on the lips of men;
But, having been a name, to sink and be
A something which the world can do without,
Which, having been or not, would never change
The lightest pulse of fate,—this is indeed
A cup of bitterness the worst to taste,
And this thy heart shall empty to the dregs,
Endless despair shall be thy Caucasus
And memory thy vulture; thou wilt find
Oblivion far lonelier than this peak,—