Fame is the shade of immortality,
And in itself a shadow. Soon as caught,
Contemned; it shrinks to nothing in the grasp.
_Night Thoughts, Night VII_. DR. E. YOUNG.
And what is Fame? the meanest have their day,
The greatest can but blaze, and pass away.
_First Book of Horace, Epistle VI_. A. POPE.
What's Fame? A fancied life in others' breath,
A thing beyond us, e'en before our death.
_Essay on Man, Epistle IV_. A. POPE.
What is the end of Fame? 'tis but to fill
A certain portion of uncertain paper:
Some liken it to climbing up a hill,
Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapor:
For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill,
And bards burn what they call their "midnight taper,"
To have, when the original is dust,
A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.
_Don Juan, Canto I_. LORD BYRON.
Her house is all of Echo made
Where never dies the sound;
And as her brows the clouds invade,
Her feet do strike the ground.
_Fame_. B. JONSON.
What shall I do to be forever known,
And make the age to come my own?
_The Motto_. A. COWLEY.
The best-concerted schemes men lay for fame
Die fast away: only themselves die faster.
The far-famed sculptor, and the laurelled bard,
Those bold insurancers of deathless fame,
Supply their little feeble aids in vain.
_The Grave_. R. BLAIR.
By Jove! I am not covetous for gold;
* * * * *
But, if it be a sin to covet honor,
I am the most offending soul alive.
_King Henry V., Act_ iv. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,--
That all with one consent praise new-born gawds,
* * * * *
And give to dust, that is a little gilt,
More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
_Troilus and Cressida, Act_ iii. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Thrice happy he whose name has been well spelt
In the despatch: I knew a man whose loss
Was printed _Grove_, although his name was Grose.
_Don Juan, Canto VIII_. LORD BYRON.
Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favors call:
She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all.
* * * * *
Unblemished let me live, or die unknown;
O grant an honest fame, or grant me none!
_The Temple of Fame_. A. POPE.
It deserves with characters of brass
A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time
And razure of oblivion.
_Measure for Measure, Act_ v. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Your name is great
In mouths of wisest censure.
_Othello, Act_ ii. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Know ye not then, said Satan, filled with scorn,--
Know ye not me?
* * * * *
Not to know me argues yourselves unknown,
The lowest of your throng.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.
The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome
Outlives, in fame, the pious fool that raised it.
_Shakespeare's King Richard III. (Altered), Act iii. Sc. 1_. C. CIBBER.
Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where fame's proud temple shines afar!
Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime
Has felt the influence of malignant star,
And waged with Fortune an eternal war;
Checked by the scoff of pride, by envy's frown,
And poverty's unconquerable bar,
In life's low vale remote has pined alone,
Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown!
_The Minstrel, Bk. I_. J. BEATTIE.