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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8/15/2026 11:05:28 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
