Classic Poem

When will the names of great men rest in peace,
And be revered as they deserve on earth?
When will the mongrel horde of cavilers cease
To soil their memory and denounce their worth?

Will the Greek symmetry of their perfect thought
Be ever ravaged by the modern Huns?
Can naught restrain these lesser beings, fraught
With bitter hatred for dead, might ones?

Shall impotent, gall-fed critics, balked of fame,
In envious wrath lay down Neronian law?
And turn to ridicule some soaring name
That shows a brilliant diamond's lightest flaw?

An easy task, forsooth! Delicious themes,
To scoff at what is grand and pure and far,
But to my eyes their mad persistence seems
Like some pale fire-fly jealous of a star.

And when I see these pompous idiots strut,
And note the paltry mischief they have done,
I smile and think of some foul Lapland hut
That might be envious of a Parthenon!