On Observing Some Names Of Little Note Recorded In The Biographia Britannica

Oh, fond attempt to give a deathless lot
To names ignoble, born to be forgot!
In vain recorded in historic page,
They court the notice of a future age:
Those twinkling tiny lustres of the land
Drop one by one from Fame's neglecting hand;
Lethëan gulfs receive them as they fall,
And dark oblivion soon absorbs them all.


So when a child, as playful children use,
Has burnt to tinder a stale last year's news,
The flame extinct, he views the roving fire--
There goes my lady, and there goes the squire,
There goes the parson, oh illustrious spark!
And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk!