THE Fame we covet is a wand'ring air, Which against Silence wages constant war; For to be mute does her so much displease, That true, or false, she seldom holds her peace; She but a while can in a place remain, 'Tis running up and down, does her sustain; Tho' dead she seem, she quickly can revive, And with a thousand tongues, a Hydra live. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS [JANUARY 8, 1815] by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 7 by PHILIP SIDNEY LITTLE GOLDENHAIR by F. BURGE SMITH THE BARTHOLDI STATUE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THESE ENDURE by MARION H. ADDINGTON TO THE KING OF THULE by HENRI ALLORGE THE BROWN GIANT by ALEXANDER ANDERSON |