Why do you strive for greatness, fool? Go pluck a bough and wear it. It is as sufficing. My Lord, there are certain barbarians Who tilt their noses As if the stars were flowers, And thy servant is lost among their shoe-buckles. Fain would I have mine eyes even with their eyes. Fool, go pluck a bough and wear it. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLUTARCH by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS LETTER TO B.W. PROCTOR, ESQ., FROM OXFORD; MAY, 1825 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES FACTORY-GIRL by MAXWELL BODENHEIM ON CITY STREETS by MARGARET E. BRUNER A HUN by VINCENT GODFREY BURNS AN EPIGRAM, ON THE BLESSEDNESS OF DIVINE LOVE by JOHN BYROM MARGARET AND DORA by THOMAS CAMPBELL |