Useless, Egoistic Self-pity
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
That’s Sir Walter Scott. I can’t say I know one end of poetry from the other… well, that’s it. I have no point to make there!