And then, from fifty Fameless years In quiet Illinois was sent A word that still the Atlantic hears, And Lincoln was the lord of his event.
"Abraham Lincoln"
John Drinkwater
But Sym grew aweary of this sort of praise, And he longed to be back with his out-o'-door days, With his feet in the grass and his back to a tree, Rhyming and tinkering, Fameless and free.
"The Glugs of Gosh"
C. J. Dennis
Sluggish are the spirits and base the lot of the men I am ordained to lead through a dull life to a Fameless grave.
"The Pilgrims Of The Rhine"
Edward Bulwer-Lytton