AMBITION cannot find him
AMBITION cannot find him, / Affection doesn't know
To hear an oriole sing
May be a common thing,
Or only a divine.
It is not of the bird
Who sings the same, unheard,
As unto crowd.
The fashion of the ear
Attireth that it hear
In dun or fair.
So whether it be rune,
Or whether it be none,
Is of within;
The tune is in the tree,
The sceptic showeth me;
No, sir! In thee!
AMBITION cannot find him, / Affection doesn't know
One dignity delays for all, / One mitred afternoon.
TO pile like Thunder to its close, / Then crumble grand away,
Not any higher stands the grave / For heroes than for men;