Fame is a food that dead men eat,—
I have no stomach for such meat.
In little light and narrow room,
They eat it in the silent tomb,
With no kind voice of comrade near
To bid the banquet be of cheer.
But Friendship is a nobler thing,—
Of Friendship it is good to sing.
For truly, when a man shall end,
He lives in memory of his friend,
Who doth his better part recall,
And of his faults make funeral.
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Well done. I really like the rhythm and style of this poem.
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friendship is much more precious than fame or fortune. i would rather live on in someone's memory for being a friend, not for being famous. to be remembered as a friend, to be a friend, means someone has to know me well...faults and all and accept me. to be famous is rather empty isn't it?? for no one really knows you, just your fame.
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