Editors

O flower of all that springs from gentle blood,And all that generous nurture breeds to makeYouth amiable; O friend so true of soulTo fair Aglaia; by what envy moved,Lelius! has death cut short thy brilliant dayIn its sweet opening? and what dire mishapHas from Savona torn her best delight?For thee she mourns, nor e'er will cease to mourn;And, should the out-pourings of her eyes … [Read more...] about Epitaphs VII. O Flower Of All That Springs From Gentle Blood, By: William Wordsworth

Destined to war from very infancyWas I, Roberto Dati, and I tookIn Malta the white symbol of the Cross:Nor in life's vigorous season did I shunHazard or toil; among the sands was seenOf Libya; and not seldom, on the banksOf wide Hungarian Danube, 'twas my lotTo hear the sanguinary trumpet sounded.So lived I, and repined not at such fate:This only grieves me, for it seems a … [Read more...] about Epitaphs VI. Destined To War From Very Infancy, By: William Wordsworth

True is it that Ambrosio SalineroWith an untoward fate was long involvedIn odious litigation; and full long,Fate harder still! had he to endure assaultsOf racking malady. And true it isThat not the less a frank courageous heartAnd buoyant spirit triumphed over pain;And he was strong to follow in the stepsOf the fair Muses. Not a covert pathLeads to the dear Parnassian forest's … [Read more...] about Epitaphs V. True Is It That Ambrosio Salinero, By: William Wordsworth

I Weep not, beloved Friends! nor let the airFor me with sighs be troubled. Not from lifeHave I been taken; this is genuine lifeAnd this alone the life which now I liveIn peace eternal; where desire and joyTogether move in fellowship without end.Francesco Ceni willed that, after death,His tombstone thus should speak for him. And surelySmall cause there is for that fond wish … [Read more...] about Epitaphs Translated From Chiabrera, By: William Wordsworth

Pause, courteous Spirit! Balbi supplicatesThat Thou, with no reluctant voice, for himHere laid in mortal darkness, wouldst preferA prayer to the Redeemer of the world.This to the dead by sacred right belongs;All else is nothing. Did occasion suitTo tell his worth, the marble of this tombWould ill suffice: for Plato's lore sublime,And all the wisdom of the Stagyrite,Enriched and … [Read more...] about Epitaphs IX. Pause, Courteous Spirit, By: William Wordsworth