’Tis hollow and false, I know;
For Honor, at best, is an empty name,
And Fame but a trumpet the foolish blow;
Take them and bid them fly fast from me,
Fly fast as a homing dove;
Take you the cold world’s praise, old Time,
But leave me a little love!
Yea, leave me a little love, old Time,
And take you all else you prize;
For Love will sweeten the saddest heart