_The Grandmother_. A. TENNYSON.
Some lie beneath the churchyard stone,
And some before the speaker.
_School and Schoolfellows_. W.M. PRAED.
Like one,
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie.
_The Tempest, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
FAME.
Fame is the shade of immortality,
And in itself a shadow. Soon as caught,
Contemned; it shrinks to nothing in the grasp.
_Night Thoughts, Night VII_. DR. E. YOUNG.
And what is Fame? the meanest have their day,
The greatest can but blaze, and pass away.
_First Book of Horace, Epistle VI_. A. POPE.
What's Fame? A fancied life in others' breath,
A thing beyond us, e'en before our death.
_Essay on Man, Epistle IV_. A. POPE.
What is the end of Fame? 'tis but to fill
A certain portion of uncertain paper:
Some liken it to climbing up a hill,
Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapor:
For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill,
And bards burn what they call their "midnight taper,"
To have, when the original is dust,
A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.
_Don Juan, Canto I_. LORD BYRON.
Her house is all of Echo made
Where never dies the sound;
And as her brows the clouds invade,
Her feet do strike the ground.
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