Fame Poem by Arthur Guiterman
Fame
'Great king,' the poet cried, his rebec stringing,
'Thy name shall live forever- through my singing!'
'Poor fool,' the king replied, 'that lie is hoary;
Thy songs may live- because they chant my glory!'
So each, the sword or lyre glorifying,
In turn proclaimed his work alone undying;
And while their wordy warfare shook the rafter,
Old Time stood by and held his sides for laughter!
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4/30/2024 4:17:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
