THERE lived a man who raised his hand and said, <br />'I will be great!' <br />And through a long, long life he bravely knocked <br />At Fame's closed gate. <br /> <br />A son he left who, like his sire, strove <br />High place to win;-- <br />Worn out, he died and, dying, left no trace <br />That he had been. <br /> <br />He also left a son, who, without care <br />Or planning how, <br />Bore the fair letters of a deathless fame <br />Upon his brow. <br /> <br />'Behold a genius, filled with fire divine!' <br />The people cried; <br />Not knowing that to make him what he was <br />Two men had died.<br /><br />Isabel Ecclestone Mackay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/inheritance-18/