 | Small poems of Divers sorts |  |
120
59. Of Fame.
Fame's a strange Good, and a strange Evil, thatDoth often give too much, and oft detract;
And sometimes justice doth, and hits the Mean,
Avoiding each extravagant Extream.
Let us precisely to our duties stick,
And Fames worst malice shal not wound to th'quick:
Or if it gives us that which is above
Our merits, why such flatteries should we love?
Doth Fame the virtuous right? 'tis well. We shall
Else each have's due after his funeral.
| Small poems of Divers sorts | |