Of Time, though meagre all, and ghostly thin,
Most unsubstantial, unessential shade,
Was earthly Fame. She was a voice alone,
And dwelt upon the noisy tongues of men.
She never thought, but gabbled ever on,
Applauding most what least deserved applause.
The motive, the result, was nought to her.
The deed alone, though dyed in human gore,
And steeped in widows’ tears, if it stood out
To prominent display, she talked of much,