EPITAPH EPITAPH
Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere,
In action faithful, and in honour clear; Who broke no promise, served no private end, Who gained no title, and who lost no friend, Ennobled by himself, by all approved, And praised, unenvied, by the muse he loved.
Heralds and statesmen, by your leave,
Here lies what once was Matthew Prior; The son of Adam and of Eve; Can Bourbon or Nassau go higher? Prior—Epitaph. Extempore. (As given in original edition.)
Johnny Carnegie lais heer
Descendit of Adam and Eve, Gif ony cou gang hieher, Fse willing give him leve. Epitaph in an old Scottish Churchyard.
In Fortunam
Inveni portum spes et fortuna valete Nil mihi vobiscum ludite nunc alios. Mine haven's found; Fortune and Hope, adieu. Mock others now, for I have done with you. Inscription on the tomb of Francesco Pucci in the church of St. Onuphrius, (St. Onofrio), Rome. Translation by Burton
Memb. 6. Quoted by him as a saying of Prudentius. Attributed to Janus Pannonius. See Jani Panuonh—Onofrio. Pt. II. Folio 70. Found in Laubentius Schradern's Monwmenia Italics, Folio Hell mcestadii. P. 164. Attributed to Cardinal
La Marck in foot-note to Le Sage's Gil Bias.
Jam portum inveni, Spes et Fortuna valete.
Nil triihi vobiscum est, ludite nunc alios. Fortune and Hope farewell! I've found the port; You've done with me: go now, with others sport. Version of the Greek epigram in the Anthologia. Trans, by Merivale. Latin by Thomas More, in the Progymnasmata prefixed to first ed. of MoKE'&Epigrams. (1520)
Avete multum, Spesque, Forsque; sum in vado.
Qui pone sint illudite; haud mea interest. ,
Version of the Greek epigram in Dr. Welleslet's Anthohgia Polyglotta. P. 464. Ed.
1849.
Speme e Fortuna, addio; che' in porto entrai.
Schernite gli altri; ch^io vi spregio omai.
Version of the Greek epigram by Luigi
Alamanni.
I came at morn—'twas spring, I smiled,
The fields with green were clad;
I walked abroad at noon,—and lo!
'Twas summer,—I was glad;
I sate me down; 'twas autumn eve,
And I with sadness wept;
I laid me down at night, and then
'Twas winter,—and I slept.
Mart Pyper—Epitaph. A Life. Same on a
tombstone in Massachusetts. See Newhaven Mag. Dec, 1863.
The world's a book, writ by th' eternal Art
Of the great Maker; printed in man's heart;
'Tis falsely printed though divinely penn'd,
And all the Errata will appear at th' end.
Quarles—Divine Fancies.
The World's a Printing-House, our words, our
thoughts,
Our deeds, are characters of several sizes.
Each Soul is a Compos'tor, of whose faults
The Levites are Correctors; Heaven Revises.
Death is the common Press, from whence being
driven,
We're gather'd, Sheet by Sheet, and bound for
Heaven.
Quarles—Divine Fancies.
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She was—but room forbids to tell thee what—
Sum all perfection up, and she was—that.
Quarles—Epitaph on Lady Luchyn.
Warm summer sun, shine friendly here;
Warm western wind, blow kindly here;
Green sod above, rest light, rest light—
Good-night, Annette!
Sweetheart, good-night.
Robert Richardson, in his collection, Willow and Wattle. P. 35.
Warm summer sun shine kindly here;
Warm southern wind blow softly here;
Green sod above Me light, he light—
Good night, dear heart, good night, good night.
Richardson's lines on the tombstone of Susie
Clemens as altered by Mark Twain (S. L.
Clemens).
Quod expendi habui
Quod donavi habeo
Quod servavi perdidi.
That I spent that I had
That I gave that I have
That I left that I lost.
Epitaph under an effigy of a priest. T. F.
Ravenshaw's Antiente Epitaphes. P. 5.
Weever's Funeral Monuments. Ed. 1631.
P. 581. PecnGKEw's Chronicles of the Tombs.
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{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>Ecce quod expendi habui, quod donavi habeo,
quod negavi punior, quod servavi perdidi.
On Tomb of John Killungworth. (1412)
In Pitson Church, Bucks, England.
Lo, all that ever I spent, that sometime had I;
All that I gave in good intent, that now have I;
That I never gave, nor lent, that now aby I;
That I kept till I went, that lost I.
Trans, of the Latin on the brasses of a priest
at St. Albans, and on a brass as late as 1584
at St. Olave's, Hart Street, London.
{{Hoyt quote
| num = | text = <poem>It that I gife, I haif,
It that I len, I craif , It that I spend, is myue, It that I leif, I tyne. On very old stone in Scotland. Hackett's Epitaphs. Vol. I. P. 32. (Ed. 1737)
