Another on Fame

Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coyTo those who woo her with too slavish knees,But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy,And dotes the more upon a heart at ease;She is a Gipsy,—will not speak to thoseWho have not learnt to be content without her;A Jilt, whose ear was never whisper'd close,Who thinks they scandal her who talk about her;A very Gipsy is she, Nilus-born,Sister-in-law to jealous Potiphar;Ye lovesick Bards! repay her scorn for scorn;Ye Artists lovelorn! madmen that ye are!Make your best bow to her and bid adieu,Then, if she likes it, she will follow you.