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Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Yet still he fills affection's eye,
Obscurely wise, and coarsely kind.
Yet still he fills affection's eye,
Obscurely wise, and coarsely kind.
Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever.
Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever.
Some write their wrongs in marble: he more just,
Stoop'd down serene and wrote them on the dust,
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Some write their wrongs in marble: he more just,
Stoop'd down serene and wrote them on the dust,
Trod under foot, the sport of every wind,
Swept from the earth and blotted from his mind,
There, secret in the grave, he bade them lie,
And grieved they could not 'scape the Almighty eye.
Yet was he but a squire of low degree.
Yet was he but a squire of low degree.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
He who has lived obscurely and quietly has lived well.
[Lat., Bene qui latuit, bene vixit.]
He who has lived obscurely and quietly has lived well.
[Lat., Bene qui latuit, bene vixit.]
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none read more
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love.