Fame Is The Thirst Of

As Winds Come Whispering Lightly From The West, Kissing, Not Ruffling, The Blue Deep's Serene.

Then Rose From Sea To Sky The Wild Farewell Then Shriek'd The Timid, And Stood Still The Brave, Then Some Leap'd Overboard With Fearful Yell, As Eager To Anticipate Their Grave.

Well, Well, The World Must Turn Upon Its Axis, And All Mankind Turn With It, Heads Or Tails, And Live And Die, Make Love And Pay Our Taxes, And As The Veering Winds Shift, Shift Our Sails.

A Rose With All Its Sweetest Leaves Yet Folded.

Time Strips Our Illusions Of Their Hue, And One By One In Turn, Some Grand Mistake Casts Off Its Bright Skin Yearly Like The Snake.