THE CROWN OF FAME.
What toils and hardships oft confront man’s sight,When first ascending fame’s immortal height:What cares, vexations, worriments prevail,What deep-laid plans, repeated efforts, fail;Yet who would dwell in hermit den, obscure,To shun the toils that hero-gods endure!Bestir thyself, O man, for soon—too soon,As youth recedes, shall fade life’s golden noon!If thou wouldst make thyself undying name,Direct thy efforts to one worthy aim;Let each exertion then be wrought with zeal,Nor faint if woe come where thou look’st for weal;But toil thou on, nor fear the world’s dark frown,Till firm upon the summit of renown.Whatever good, perchance, thy toils, may greet,Lose not thyself in folly’s vain conceit:False pride to lowest degradation tends—It leads to vice and vice to crime descends;As tiny rills, that from the mountain flow,Pursue their course to larger streams below,Till seas are joined where mighty billows roll,So pride goes onward till it wrecks the soul;Thus by degrees the downward course begins,And greatest evils rise from little sins.Nor seek thy fame ’mid pompous scenes of art,Where vice and folly oft inure the heart:’Tis Right eternal kindles honor’s flame,And crowns Man’s efforts with immortal Fame.
What toils and hardships oft confront man’s sight,When first ascending fame’s immortal height:What cares, vexations, worriments prevail,What deep-laid plans, repeated efforts, fail;Yet who would dwell in hermit den, obscure,To shun the toils that hero-gods endure!Bestir thyself, O man, for soon—too soon,As youth recedes, shall fade life’s golden noon!If thou wouldst make thyself undying name,Direct thy efforts to one worthy aim;Let each exertion then be wrought with zeal,Nor faint if woe come where thou look’st for weal;But toil thou on, nor fear the world’s dark frown,Till firm upon the summit of renown.Whatever good, perchance, thy toils, may greet,Lose not thyself in folly’s vain conceit:False pride to lowest degradation tends—It leads to vice and vice to crime descends;As tiny rills, that from the mountain flow,Pursue their course to larger streams below,Till seas are joined where mighty billows roll,So pride goes onward till it wrecks the soul;Thus by degrees the downward course begins,And greatest evils rise from little sins.Nor seek thy fame ’mid pompous scenes of art,Where vice and folly oft inure the heart:’Tis Right eternal kindles honor’s flame,And crowns Man’s efforts with immortal Fame.
What toils and hardships oft confront man’s sight,When first ascending fame’s immortal height:What cares, vexations, worriments prevail,What deep-laid plans, repeated efforts, fail;Yet who would dwell in hermit den, obscure,To shun the toils that hero-gods endure!Bestir thyself, O man, for soon—too soon,As youth recedes, shall fade life’s golden noon!If thou wouldst make thyself undying name,Direct thy efforts to one worthy aim;Let each exertion then be wrought with zeal,Nor faint if woe come where thou look’st for weal;But toil thou on, nor fear the world’s dark frown,Till firm upon the summit of renown.Whatever good, perchance, thy toils, may greet,Lose not thyself in folly’s vain conceit:False pride to lowest degradation tends—It leads to vice and vice to crime descends;As tiny rills, that from the mountain flow,Pursue their course to larger streams below,Till seas are joined where mighty billows roll,So pride goes onward till it wrecks the soul;Thus by degrees the downward course begins,And greatest evils rise from little sins.Nor seek thy fame ’mid pompous scenes of art,Where vice and folly oft inure the heart:’Tis Right eternal kindles honor’s flame,And crowns Man’s efforts with immortal Fame.
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