SUCCESS.
Without one thought in his wide, empty brain
(For Reason never sowed a seed to grow),
He sits and writes page after page—no strain;
Why? Chaff is cheap and sometimes looks like grain.
EUMENIDES.
All kindred gods have crumbled into dust
Though latest born of that once teeming womb.
Ye yet abide who shall not taste a tomb—
Of passion, gold, and fame the lashing lust.