His chosen comrades thought at school He must grow a famous man; He thought the same and lived by rule, All his twenties crammed with toil; "i(What then?" sang Plato's ghost. "What then?") Everything he wrote was read, After certain years he won Sufficient money for his need, Friends that have been friends indeed; "i(What then?" sang Plato's ghost. " What then?") All his happier dreams came true -- A small old house, wife, daughter, son, Grounds where plum and cabbage grew, poets and Wits about him drew; "i(What then.?" sang Plato's ghost. "What then?") The work is done," grown old he thought, "According to my boyish plan; Let the fools rage, I swerved in naught, Something to perfection brought"; i(But louder sang that ghost, "What then?")
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