Who o'er the herd would wish to reign,

Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain!

Vain as the leaf upon the stream,

And fickle as a changeful dream;

Fantastic as a woman's mood,

And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood.

Thou many-headed monster thing,

Oh who would wish to be thy king!

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Lady of the Lake. Canto v. Stanza 30.

Call it not vain: they do not err

Who say that when the poet dies

Mute Nature mourns her worshipper,

And celebrates his obsequies.

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

But in vayne shee did conjure him

To depart her presence soe;

Having a thousand tongues to allure him,

And but one to bid him goe.

Thomas Percy (1728-1811): Dulcina.

True, I talk of dreams,

Which are the children of an idle brain,

Begot of nothing but vain fantasy.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Romeo and Juliet. Act i. Sc. 4.

I only know we loved in vain;

I only feel—farewell! farewell!

Lord Byron 1788-1824: Farewell! if ever fondest Prayer.

Vain, very vain, my weary search to find

That bliss which only centres in the mind.

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Traveller. Line 423.

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness!

This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth

The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,

And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;

The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,

And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely

His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,

And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,

Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,

This many summers in a sea of glory,

But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride

At length broke under me and now has left me,

Weary and old with service, to the mercy

Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me.

Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye:

I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched

Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!

There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,

That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,

More pangs and fears than wars or women have:

And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,

Never to hope again.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Take, O, take those lips away,

That so sweetly were forsworn;

And those eyes, the break of day,

Lights that do mislead the morn:

But my kisses bring again, bring again;

Seals of love, but sealed in vain, sealed in vain.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Measure for Measure. Act iv. Sc. 1.

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;

A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,

Which sought through the world is ne'er met with elsewhere.

An exile from home splendour dazzles in vain,

Oh give me my lowly thatched cottage again;

The birds singing gayly, that came at my call,

Give me them, and that peace of mind dearer than all.

J Howard Payne (1792-1852): Home, Sweet Home. (From the opera of "Clari, the Maid of Milan.")

And panting Time toil'd after him in vain.

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784): Prologue on the Opening of Drury Lane Theatre.

A mighty pain to love it is,

And 't is a pain that pain to miss;

But of all pains, the greatest pain

It is to love, but love in vain.

Abraham Cowley (1618-1667): From Anacreon, vii. Gold.

'T were vain to tell thee all I feel,

Or say for thee I 'd die.

J A Wade (1800-1875): 'T were vain to tell.

Vain was the chief's the sage's pride!

They had no poet, and they died.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Odes. Book iv. Ode 9.

Vain wisdom all and false philosophy.

John Milton (1608-1674): Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 565.

While Thee I seek, protecting Power,

Be my vain wishes stilled;

And may this consecrated hour

With better hopes be filled.

Helen Maria Williams (1762-1827): Trust in Providence.