---

James Russell Lowell - In An Album
Work rating: Low

The misspelt scrawl, upon the wall
By some Pompeian idler traced,
In ashes packed (ironic fact!)
Lies eighteen centuries uneffaced,
While many a page of bard and sage,
Deemed once mankind`s immortal gain,
Lost from Time`s ark, leaves no more mark
Than a keel`s furrow through the main.

O Chance and Change! our buzz`s range
Is scarcely wider than a fly`s;
Then let us play at fame to-day,
To-morrow be unknown and wise;
And while the fair beg locks of hair,
And autographs, and Lord knows what,
Quick! let us scratch our moment`s match,
Make our brief blaze, and be forgot!

Too pressed to wait, upon her slate
Fame writes a name or two in doubt;
Scarce written, these no longer please,
And her own finger rubs them out:
It may ensue, fair girl, that you
Years hence this yellowing leaf may see,
And put to task, your memory ask
In vain, `This Lowell, who was he?`
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.