Then shall our names

Familiar in his mouth as household words,

Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.

Shakespeare: Henry V.

Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
(That last infirmity of noble mind)

To scorn delights and live laborious days;
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,
And think to burst out into sudden blaze,

Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears,
And slits the thin-spun life.

Milton: Lycidas.

Nor fame I slight, nor for her favors call:
She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all.

Pope: Temple of Fame.

The best-concerted schemes men lay for fame
Die fast away: only themselves die faster.
The far-fam'd sculptor and the laurell'd bard,
Those bold insurancers of deathless fame,
Supply their little feeble aids in vain.

For what is fame

Blair: Grave.

But the benignant strength of One, transformed

To joy of Many?

George Eliot: Armgart.

Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb

The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar!

Beattie: Minstrel.

Fame is the shade of immortality,

And in itself a shadow. Soon as caught, Contemn'd, it shrinks to nothing in the grasp. Young: Night Thoughts.

Who can contemplate Fame through clouds unfold The star which rises o'er her steep, nor climb? Byron: Childe Harold.

The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore.

We tell thy doom without a sigh,

Byron: Don Juan.

For thou art freedom's now, and fame's-
One of the few, th' immortal names
That were not born to die!

Halleck.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour;

The paths of glory lead but to the grave!

Gray: Elegy.

Fame lulls the fever of the soul, and makes
Us feel that we have grasp'd an immortality.

Joaquin Miller: Ina.

Fame is the fragrance of heroic deeds.

Longfellow: Tales of a Wayside Inn.

And departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time;-
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwreck'd brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Longfellow: Psalm of Life.

Farewell, Good-by; see Absence, Resignation, and

Parting.

Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!

Shakespeare: Henry VIII.

Fare thee well;

The elements be kind to thee, and make

Thy spirits all of comfort.

Shakespeare: Antony and Cleopatra.

Farewell!

For in that word,-that fatal word,-howe'er
We promise-hope-believe,-there breathes despair.
Byron: Corsair.

Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been:
A sound which makes us linger;-yet-farewell!
Byron: Childe Harold.

Farewell! if ever fondest prayer
For others' weal avail'd on high,
Mine will not all be lost in air,

But waft thy name beyond the sky.

Byron: Farewell! If Ever Fondest Prayer.

Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,

Thy tribute wave deliver:

A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver;
But not by thee my steps shall be,

For ever and for ever.

Tennyson: A Farewell.

Fate, Destiny; see Fortune and Futurity.

What fates impose, that men must needs abide;
It boots not to resist both wind and tide.

Shakespeare: 3 Henry VI.

All human things are subject to decay,

And when fate summons, monarchs must obey.

Dryden: MacFlecknoe.

Bailey: Festus.

While warmer souls command, nay, make their fate, Thy fate made thee, and forc'd thee to be great.

Moore.

Fate holds the strings, and Men like Children, move But as they're led: Success is from above.

Lord Lansdowne: Heroic Love.

Heaven from all creatures hides the Book of Fate, All but the page prescrib'd, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits

know;

Or who could suffer being here below?

Oh! blindness to the future! kindly given,

That each may fill the circle mark'd by heav'n,

Who sees, with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall.

Pope: Essay on Man.

Here's a sigh to those who love me,
And a smile to those who hate;
And, whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for ev'ry fate.

Byron: To Tom Moore.

No one can be more wise than destiny.

Tennyson: A Dream of Fair Women.

This day we fashion Destiny, our web of Fate we

spin.

Alas, by what rude fate

Whittier: The Crisis.

Our lives, like ships at sea, an instant meet,

Then part forever on their courses fleet!

E. C. Stedman: Blameless Prince.

Even in the most exalted state,
Relentless sweeps the stroke of fate.

The strongest fall.

Longfellow: Coplas De Manrique.

All are architects of Fate,

Working in these walls of Time: Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme.

Longfellow: The Builders.

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other

in passing,

Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;