Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonourd and unsung. ScottLay of the Last Minstrel. Canto VI. St. 1.
Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passd in music out of sight. TennysonLocksley Hall. L. 33.