Fame was like a drug. But what was even more like a drug were the drugs.
But sure the eye of time beholds no name, So blest as thine in all the rolls of fame.
The life, which others pay, let us bestow, And give to fame what we to nature owe.
Our fruitless labours mourn, And only rich in barren fame return.
Short is my date, but deathless my renown.
The rest were vulgar deaths unknown to fame.