<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513397" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To A Rich Vulgarian</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fragments 35, 67, 81, 72, 68 combined.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou fool — that thou shouldst plume thyself<br>On rich attire, on jewel-hoard,<br>On dross of thine ill-gotten pelf,<br>On carcanet and flashing ring,<br>On meats and wines that load thy board!<br>Ay, cup on cup past numbering<br>Thou drainest with the drunken! Fool,<br>Who hast not learnt in wisdom's school<br>That wealth is an accursed thing<br>Dislinked from goodness! Only when<br>These twain are wedded, happiness<br>True and abiding comes to bless<br>The fleeting life of dying men.<br>Fool! — yet not as in wrath I speak:<br>Not I on thee would vengeance wreak.<br>A quiet spirit dwells in me<br>That scorns to bruise such worms as thee.<br>Nay, but the inevitable Fate<br>Even now decrees thine after-state: —<br>When thou art dead, so shalt thou lie<br>Ever: thy very name shall die.<br>Thy sordid story not outlast<br>Thy burial; for no part thou hast<br>In Song-land's roses, whose perfume<br>Breathes life immortal, o'er the tomb<br>Triumphant. Unregarded all<br>Shalt thou stray lost in Hades' hall<br>Amidst the fameless dead forlorn,<br>A vile, ignoble thing of scorn!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sappho">Sappho</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513397" data-title="To A Rich Vulgarian de Sappho" data-description="Fragments 35, 67, 81, 72, 68 combined. Thou fool — that thou shouldst plume thyself On rich attire, on jewel-hoard, On dross of thine ill-gotten pelf, On carcanet and flashing ring, On meats and wines that load thy board! Ay, cup on cup past nu..."></div> </div> </div>

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