Short is my date, but deathless my renown.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): The Iliad of Homer. Book ix. Line 535.

Breathes there the man with soul so dead

Who never to himself hath said,

This is my own, my native land!

Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd

As home his footsteps he hath turn'd

From wandering on a foreign strand?

If such there breathe, go, mark him well!

For him no minstrel raptures swell;

High though his titles, proud his name,

Boundless his wealth as wish can claim,—

Despite those titles, power, and pelf,

The wretch, concentred all in self,

Living, shall forfeit fair renown,

And, doubly dying, shall go down

To the vile dust from whence he sprung,

Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto vi. Stanza 1.

Some for renown, on scraps of learning dote,

And think they grow immortal as they quote.

Edward Young (1684-1765): Love of Fame. Satire i. Line 89.

King Stephen was a worthy peere,

His breeches cost him but a croune;

He held them sixpence all too deere,

Therefore he call'd the taylor loune.

He was a wight of high renowne,

And those but of a low degree;

Itt's pride that putts the countrye doune,

Then take thine old cloake about thee.

Thomas Percy (1728-1811): Take thy old Cloak about Thee.