Three score and ten! A slave to office yet! In the Li Chi these luminous words befall: "The lust for honours honours not at all," Here is the golden line we most forget. Alas! how these long years afflict a man! When teeth are gone, and failing eyes grow dim. The morning dews brought dreams of fame to him Who bears in dusk the burdens of his clan. His eyes still linger on the tassel blue, And still the red sedan of rank appeals, But his shrunk belly scarce the girdle feels As, bowed, he crawls the Prince's Gateway through. Where is the man that would not wealth acclaim? Who would not truckle for his sovereign's grace? Yet years of high renown their furrows trace, And greatness overwhelms the weary frame. The springs of laughter flow not from his heart, Where bide the dust and glamour of old days. Who walks alone in contemplation's ways? 'Tis he, the happy man, who dwells apart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OPPORTUNITY by NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 7 by PHILIP SIDNEY FAREWELL TO THE FARM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON AS THE GREEK'S SIGNAL FLAME by WALT WHITMAN ROMANCE OF BRUNETTES AND BLONDES by JACQUES BARON TRANSFORMATION by BEATRICE JEAN K. BOROFF |