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On FAME.
  
  
  
  
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306

On FAME.
[_]

Printed in 1714.

By what strong Impulse anxious Mortals strive,
That their own Fun'rals they may long survive?
Charm'd with its Splendor; all at Glory aim,
And ardent climb the tempting Heights of Fame.
Behold for this imaginary Good,
Intrepid Warriors wade thro' Seas of Blood:
Sages for this, with painful Labour spent,
Subvert old Systems, and new Schemes invent;
Now dive to view the Wonders of the Main,
Then range the Meteors, curious to explain
The Birth of Storms, and secret Springs of Rain.
While others studious 'midst the starry Skies,
Explore new Worlds with late invented Eyes;
Describe the Empire, which the Sun controuls,
And how each Planet round its Centre rouls.

307

The Poets own, their restless Aims aspire
To lasting Fame, for this they string the Lyre,
Exert their Genius, and exhaust their Fire.
And yet their Atomes scatter'd by the Wind
Thro' the wide Void, or to the Tomb confin'd,
Of all we say, unconscious still remain,
They taste no Pleasure, as they feel no Pain.
Do's Maro smile, when we extol his Lays?
Or Tully listen in his Urn to Praise?
Do Shouts of Triumph sooth great Cæsar's Ear?
Or Fame, young Ammon, thy cold Ashes cheer?
While foolish Men, with vain Ambition try
To live in Sound and Names, that never die;
Exalted Minds should Toil superior bear,
More Hazards run, and warmer Zeal declare,
Whose gen'rous Thoughts inspir'd by Virtue aim
At Blissful Life, and true Immortal Fame.