The furnitures that fill my house,
The vast and beautiful disclose,
All noble, and the store is gold;
Our ancient glory here unroll'd.
But fortune checks my daring claim,
A step-mother severe to fame.
A smile malignantly she throws
Just at the story's prosperous close.
And thus must the unfinish'd tale,
And all my many vigils fail,
And must my country's honour fall;
In one brief hour must perish all?
But, conscious of the greatness of his labours, he would obtain the
favour of the Archbishop, by promising a share of his own fame--
----pretium sequetur amplum--
Sic nomen tibi litterae elegantes
Recte perpetuum dabunt, suosque
Partim vel titulos tibi receptos
Concedet memori Britannus ore:
Sic te posteritas amabit omnis,
Et fama super aethera innotesces.