Page:The Temple of Fame - Pope (1715).pdf/38

 A sudden Cloud strait snatch'd them from my Sight, And each Majestick Phantom sunk in Night.

Then came the smallest Tribe I yet had seen, Plain was their Dress, and modest was their Mein. Great Idol of Mankind! we neither claim The Praise of Merit, nor aspire to Fame; But safe in Deserts from the Applause of Men, Would die unheard of, as we liv'd unseen. 'Tis all we beg thee, to conceal from Sight Those Acts of Goodness, which themselves requite. O let us still the secret Joy partake, To follow Virtue ev'n for Virtue's sake.

And live there Men who slight immortal Fame? Who then with Incense shall adore our Name? But