AN EPIGRAM ON AMBITION.
’Tis strange how high ambition takes its flight,
But stranger far how low it meanly stoops
In quest of honour.—Envy stops at nought—
Now like an eagle soaring to the sun,
As fain to roost upon his flaming disk;
Then like a sow when digging in the mire,
With craving appetite to catch a worm.
But stranger far how low it meanly stoops
In quest of honour.—Envy stops at nought—
Now like an eagle soaring to the sun,
As fain to roost upon his flaming disk;
Then like a sow when digging in the mire,
With craving appetite to catch a worm.
