Monday, 3 October 2022

"On Spies" Ben Jonson

Spies, you are lights in state, but of base stuff, 
Who, when you’ve burnt yourselves down to the snuff, 
Stink and are thrown away. End fair enough.
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Fame by Emily Dickinson

Fame is a bee. It has a song— It has a sting— Ah, too, it has a wing.