It must not be! Build me a tomb whose top shall pierce the cloud—
Pile high the marble! set it round with stately columns proud—
Rear me some fane, dig deep the base, outspread it far and wide,
And write my name indelibly upon its gleaming side!
Down! down! rebellious soul, not thus must thou remembered be—
Not thus a world must ages hence be taught to think of me—
Not thus would I be carried on by Time’s resistless flood;
I would not be remembered with the great, but with the good—
If in my heart one virtue live, one pure and holy thought,
If in my character one high and noble trait be wrought,