3 October 2013
What is the end of fame? It is 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 vapour.
And Luke Howard, amateur meteorologist, wrote the year before on the same subject:
Fame is, alas! a tinsel shred
Bound on the temples of the dead,
Full dearly bought with peace of mind
To envy and to care resign’d.
Incidentally, Howard wrote that in My Ledger, or, a compromise with prudence.
(Presumably, his Commonplaces. Is mine a compromise with prudence? Never thought of it that way but I like it!)