Lives on after death, to the world revealeth
What their true life was whose days are sped,
And in chronicles shines and in lays outpealeth.
Blooms Croesus’ kindness with petals unshed;
But Phalaris, ruthlessly joying in rending
Men’s lives from the tortured in brass glowing red,
He is compassed with infamy’s hate unending,
Nor lutes nor young voices in harmony blending
In the hall of the casters his name shall greet.
Best of all is fair fortune; yet fame is sweet.
Who wins both, life’s chief crowns all meet
To engarland his head.