 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
9
“Ambitione inani pectus caret”
Knowest thou what ambition gains,
As reward of all its pain?
Know'st thou what the precious spoils
It receives for all its toils?
As reward of all its pain?
Know'st thou what the precious spoils
It receives for all its toils?
See, with what an eager eye,
Yon child pursues the butterfly;
Mark his looks of joy and pleasure,
As he strives to seize the treasure.
Yon child pursues the butterfly;
Mark his looks of joy and pleasure,
As he strives to seize the treasure.
Now on yonder rose it stands,
Running with extended hands
He would grasp the brilliant toy;
Flying from the eager boy
Running with extended hands
He would grasp the brilliant toy;
Flying from the eager boy
Now within a tulip's cup,
'Tis from sight almost shut up;
Fill'd with joy yet mix'd with fear,
Cautiously he's drawing near.
'Tis from sight almost shut up;
Fill'd with joy yet mix'd with fear,
Cautiously he's drawing near.
See the prize is now obtain'd,
The long-eluding object's gain'd;
He opes his little hands with joy,
Why that tear? say why? my boy.
The long-eluding object's gain'd;
He opes his little hands with joy,
Why that tear? say why? my boy.
Ah! its golden splendor's fled,
What thou sought'st, alas! is dead;
Thy rude grasp has crush'd the fair.
See ambition's prize is there.
What thou sought'st, alas! is dead;
Thy rude grasp has crush'd the fair.
See ambition's prize is there.
Poem No. 311; 2 June 1834
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