University of Virginia Library

FAME.

Fame! sunlike shadow! lightning-winged breath!
Vain atmosphere of meteors! haloing death!
Thou lovely image of unreal good,
Bubble on life's unfathomable flood!
Thou'rt but a dazzling phantasm in the eyes
Of earth's self-crowned infallibilities!
Life, love, hope, happiness to thee are vowed,
Thou fleeting ray, thou bright but vapoury cloud!
Thou most capricious of all things that be—
Illusive dream of immortality!
How many reap rich harvest of the bays
For whom no lights of inspiration blaze!
How many who deserve, but not desire,
To wear that crown of inly-smouldering fire!
How many who have toiled through lengthened years
To win no meed save disappointment's tears!—
But when, undreamed-of and unsought-for, Fame!
Thou'st showered thy splendours on their blazoned name—
Like that lone, lovely Abyssinian tree
Which, all uncourted, unexpectedly
Lowers her rich branches o'er those wanderers' brows
Who pass beneath her fragrance-breathing boughs—
Thus, thus, thou clasp'st within thy dazzling thrall
Those who forget thee—vainly prodigal!—
And, O! the noblest gift thou canst bestow,
How vain to assuage one pang of human wo!
How vain to exalt one joy that thrills the heart
From all the unmeaning din of life apart!
The heart! O, vain is there thy mightiest sway,
Thy kingly triumphs, and thy pæan-lay!
Thy cup, whose burning draught can yield to those
Who quaff it, all save joy and blest repose!
Yet my weak heart hath coveted in vain
Thy crown unheavenly, thy unlasting gain!
Still fervidly it ever hath aspired,
More than for vain renown, to be inspired!
Quickeningly, thrillingly, inspired and filled
With purpose high, through every pulse instilled!
For well it knows, O Fame! thou'rt but a lure—
A treacherous path to tread, and insecure!
Like the Mahometans' traditioned bridge,
Keen as a scimitar's thrice-burnished edge,
Fine as a slight aerial-textured thread,
O'er the abyss of yawning ruin led!
Even so, thy wavering, slight, frail bridge of breath
Spans a dread gulf of darkness and of death!
Oblivion's drear annihilation lowers
Beneath; above, the amaranthine bowers
Shine fadeless, but far off—thou ne'er hast led
To them—track of the crowned and mighty dead!
Alas! the Al Sirat Arch, once crossed and passed,
Led to a happy Paradise at last!