Fame.

'Tis still observ'd that fame ne'er sings
The order, but the sum of things.

Robert Herrick

Robert Herrick was a 17th-century English lyric poet and cleric. He is known for his book of poems, "Hesperides," which includes the carpe diem poem "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time." His works are noted for their clarity, simplicity, and musical quality. Herrick was also a vicar of Dean Prior in Devon, despite being ejected during the English Civil War and later reinstated.

Robert Herrick

The Pomander Bracelet.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Loading And Unloading.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Prevision Or Provision.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Poets.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Glory.

Glory no other thing is, Tully says,
Than a man's frequent fame spoke out with praise.

Robert Herrick

Fame Makes Us Forward.

To print our poems, the propulsive cause
Is fame - the breath of popular applause.

Robert Herrick

The Pillar Of Fame.

Fame's pillar here, at last, we set,
Outduring    marble,    brass,    or    jet.
Charm'd    and    enchanted    so
As    to    withstand    the    blow
    Of o v e r t h r o w;
    Nor shall    the    seas,
    Or    o u t r a g e s
    Of    storms    o'erbear
    What    we    uprear.
    Tho'    kingdoms    fall,
This    pillar    never    shall
Decline    or    waste    at    all;
But    stand    for    ever    by    his    own
Firm    and    well-fix'd    foundation.

Robert Herrick

To The Most Accomplished Gentleman, M. Michael Oulsworth.

Nor think that thou in this my book art worst,
Because not plac'd here with the midst, or first.
Since fame that sides with these, or goes before
Those, that must live with thee for evermore;
That fame, and fame's rear'd pillar, thou shalt see
In the next sheet, brave man, to follow thee.
Fix on that column then, and never fall,
Held up by Fame's eternal pedestal.

Robert Herrick

Fame

1
Once, in a dream, I saw a man,
With haggard face and tangled hair,
And eyes that nursed as wild a care
As gaunt Starvation ever can;
And in his hand he held a wand
Whose magic touch gave life and thought
Unto a form his fancy wrought
And robed with coloring so grand,
It seemed the reflex of some child
Of Heaven, fair and undefiled -
A face of purity and love -
To woo him into worlds above:
And as I gazed with dazzled eyes,
A gleaming smile lit up his lips
As his bright soul from its eclipse
Went flashing into Paradise.
Then tardy Fame came through the door
And found a picture - nothing more.

2
And once I saw a man alone,
In abject poverty, with hand
Uplifted o'er a block of stone
That took a shape at his command
...

James Whitcomb Riley

Fame

I

Once, in a dream, I saw a man
    With haggard face and tangled hair,
And eyes that nursed as wild a care
    As gaunt Starvation ever can;
And in his hand he held a wand
    Whose magic touch gave life and thought
    Unto a form his fancy wrought
And robed with coloring so grand,
    It seemed the reflex of some child
    Of Heaven, fair and undefiled -
    A face of purity and love -
    To woo him into worlds above:
And as I gazed with dazzled eyes,
    A gleaming smile lit up his lips
    As his bright soul from its eclipse
Went flashing into Paradise.
Then tardy Fame came through the door
And found a picture - nothing more.

II

And once I saw a man, alone,
    In abject poverty, with hand
Uplifted o'er a b...

James Whitcomb Riley