Confident the time will come, when pilgrims shall be flocking to the shrine.
For fame is the birthright of genius; and he recketh not how long it be delayed;
The heir need not hasten to his heritage, when he knoweth that his tenure is eternal.
The careless poet of Avon, was he troubled for his fame,
Or the deep-mouthed chronicler of Paradise, heeded he the suffrage of his equals?
Mæonides took no thought, committing all his honours to the future,
And Flaccus, standing on his watch-tower, spied the praise of ages.
Smoking flax will breed a flame, and the flame may illuminate a world;
Where is he who scorned that smoke as foul and murky vapour?
The village stream swelled to a river, and the river was a kingdom's wealth,