Thy aim, thy aim? 'Mid the dust dearth and din, An exception wouldst win By some deed shall ignite the acclaim? Then beware, and prepare thee Lest Envy ensnare thee, And yearning be sequelled by shame. But strive bravely on, yet on and yet on, Let the goal be won; Then if, living, you kindle a flame, Your guerdon will be but a flower, Only a flower, The flower of repute, A flower cut down in an hour. But repute, if this be too tame, And, dying, you truly ennoble a name ''" Again but a flower! Only a flower, A funeral flower, A blossom of Dis from Proserpine's bower ''" The belated funeral flower of fame | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAYBREAK by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE ECHOING GREEN, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE ON THE LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE by WILLIAM COWPER DEAD COW FARM by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES WORD-PORTRAITS: THE DESCRIPTION OF SIR GEOFFREY CHAUCER by ROBERT GREENE SOJOURN IN THE WHALE by MARIANNE MOORE TRUST by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE |