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		<title>Howell, James -- Paroimiographia [Παροιμιογραφία]: Proverbs, or, Old Sayed Sawes &#038; Adages, &#8220;English Proverbs&#8221; (1659) [compiler]</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/howell-james/84011/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 03 Jun 2026 07:10:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Howell, James]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[When thou dost hear a toul or knell, Then think upon thy passing-bel.]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>When thou dost hear a toul or knell,<br />
<span class="tab">Then think upon thy passing-bel.</p>
<br><b>James Howell</b> (c. 1594–1666) Welsh historian and writer<br><i>Paroimiographia [Παροιμιογραφία]: Proverbs, or, Old Sayed Sawes &#038; Adages</i>, &#8220;English Proverbs&#8221; (1659) [compiler] 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=njp.32101037070743&seq=632&q1=%22When+thou+do%C5%BFt+hear%22" target="_blank">Source</a>)
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		<title>Greenwood, Kerry -- Phryne Fisher, Book 11, Away with the Fairies, ch. 18 (2001)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/greenwood-kerry/82370/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 26 Feb 2026 23:38:01 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Greenwood, Kerry]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[The solemn ritual continued. The pastor gave his final blessing. The coffin was lowered into the grave and earth cast on it; the most final sound in the world, Phryne thought, clods thudding hollowly on the lid.]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The solemn ritual continued. The pastor gave his final blessing. The coffin was lowered into the grave and earth cast on it; the most final sound in the world, Phryne thought, clods thudding hollowly on the lid.</p>
<br><b>Kerry Greenwood</b> (b. 1954) Australian author and lawyer<br>Phryne Fisher, Book 11, <i>Away with the Fairies</i>, ch. 18 (2001) 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://archive.org/details/awaywithfairiesp0000gree/page/272/mode/2up?q=%22solemn+ritual%22" target="_blank">Source</a>)
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		<title>Moffat, Steven -- Coupling, 01&#215;03 &#8220;Sex, Death and Nudity&#8221; (2000-05-26)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/moffat-steven/74360/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jan 2025 18:27:47 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[JEFF: You&#8217;re not ready for the Giggle Loop. [&#8230;] Basically, it&#8217;s like a feedback loop. You&#8217;re somewhere quiet. There&#8217;s people. It&#8217;s a &#8212; it&#8217;s a solemn occasion. A wedding. No &#8212; it&#8217;s a minute&#8217;s silence for someone who&#8217;s died. [&#8230;] Minute’s silence ticking away. Tick. Tick. Tick. The Giggle Loop begins. Suddenly, out of nowhere, [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>JEFF: You&#8217;re not ready for the Giggle Loop. [&#8230;] Basically, it&#8217;s like a feedback loop. You&#8217;re somewhere quiet. There&#8217;s people. It&#8217;s a &#8212; it&#8217;s a solemn occasion. A wedding. No &#8212; it&#8217;s a minute&#8217;s silence for someone who&#8217;s died. [&#8230;] Minute’s silence ticking away. <i>Tick. Tick. Tick.</i> The Giggle Loop begins. Suddenly, out of nowhere, this thought comes into your head: the worst thing I could possibly do during a minute’s silence is laugh. <i>(Overturns an empty beer glass)</i> And as soon as you think that, you almost do laugh, automatic reaction. But you don’t, you control yourself. You’re fine. Whoo &#8212; but then you think how terrible it would have been if you’d laughed out loud in the middle of a minute’s silence. And so you nearly do it again, only this time it’s a bigger laugh. <i>(Stacks a beer glass on top of the first one)</i> And then you think how awful this bigger laugh would have been. And so you nearly laugh again, only this time it’s a very big laugh. <i>(Stacks another glass)</i> It’s an enormous laugh! Let this bastard out, and you get whiplash! <i>(Stacks another glass)</i> Suddenly, you’re in the middle of this completely silent room <i>(Stacks another glass)</i> and your shoulders are going like you’re drilling the road! And what do you think of this situation? Oh, dear Christ, you think it’s <i>funny!</i></p>
<br><b>Steven Moffat</b> (b. 1961) Scottish television writer, producer<br><i>Coupling</i>, 01&#215;03 &#8220;Sex, Death and Nudity&#8221; (2000-05-26) 
														<br><br><span class="cite">
						

Slightly edited from the transcript at <a href="https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Coupling_(TV_series)#:~:text=Jeff%3A%20You%27re%20not,think%20it%E2%80%99s%20funny!">Wikiquote</a>. as verified from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=483283417546127">the video</a>.  The transcript at <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0549661/quotes/?item=qt0235491&ref_=ext_shr_lnk">IMDb</a> is much rougher.

						</span>
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		<title>Catullus -- Carmina # 101 &#8220;At His Brother&#8217;s Grave&#8221; [tr. Stewart (1915)]</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/catullus/73752/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jan 2025 22:52:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Catullus]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Across wide lands, across a wider sea, To this sad service. Brother, am I bourn To pay thee death&#8217;s last tribute and to mourn By thy dead dust that cannot answer me. This, this alone is left &#8212; ah, can it be Thy living self blind chance from me has torn. That cruel death has [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Across wide lands, across a wider sea,<br />
To this sad service. Brother, am I bourn<br />
To pay thee death&#8217;s last tribute and to mourn<br />
<span class="tab">By thy dead dust that cannot answer me.<br />
This, this alone is left &#8212; ah, can it be<br />
Thy living self blind chance from me has torn.<br />
That cruel death has left me thus forlorn.<br />
<span class="tab">And thou so loved, dear Brother, lost to me?<br />
Still, must I bring, as men have done for years,<br />
These last despairing rites, this solemn vow.<br />
Here offered with a love too deep to tell,<br />
And consecrated with a brother&#8217;s tears.<br />
<span class="tab">Accept them, Brother all is done &#8212; and now<br />
<span class="tab">Forever hail, forever fare thee well.</p>
<p><em>[Multas per gentes et multa per aequora vectus<br />
Advenio has miseras, frater, ad inferias,<br />
Ut te postremo donarem munere mortis<br />
Et mutam nequiquam alloquerer cinerem.<br />
Quandoquidem fortuna mihi tete abstulit ipsum,<br />
Heu miser indigne frater adempte mihi,<br />
Nunc tamen interea haec prisco quae more parentum<br />
Tradita sunt tristi munere ad inferias,<br />
Accipe fraterno multum manantia fletu,<br />
Atque in perpetuum, frater, ave atque vale.]</em></span></span></span></span></p>
<br><b>Catullus</b> (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]<br>Carmina # 101 &#8220;At His Brother&#8217;s Grave&#8221; [tr. Stewart (1915)] 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t4pk0h310&seq=78&view=1up" target="_blank">Source</a>)
										<br><br><span class="cite">
						



This is one of several poems he wrote about his beloved brother, written while journeying home from Bithynia after serving under C. Memmius Gemellus, praetor of that province. Catullus stopped on the way in the Troad, at the grave of his brother, who had recently drowned.<br><br>

The poem is in elegiac couplets, usually reserved for romantic poems.<br><br>

The phrase "ave atque vale" ("hail and farewell") is one of the most famous from Catullus.

(<a href="http://data.perseus.org/citations/urn:cts:latinLit:phi0472.phi001.perseus-lat1:101">Source (Latin)</a>). Alternate translations:<br><br>

<blockquote>Thro' various realms, o'er various seas I come, <br>
<span class="tab">To see that each due sacrifice be paid,<br>
To bring my last sad off'ring to thy tomb, <br>
<span class="tab">And thy mute dust invoke, fraternal shad!<br>
Yes, hapless brother! since the hand of fate<br>
<span class="tab">Hath snatch'd thee ever from my longing sight;<br>
As us'd our ancestors, in solemn state<br>
<span class="tab">I'll bring each mystic gift, each fun'ral rite:<br>
With many a tear I will the ground bedew --<br>
<span class="tab">Spirit of him I lov'd, those tears receive!<br>
Spirit of him I valued most, adieu!<br>
<span class="tab">Adieu to him who sleeps in yonder grave!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t6154g976&seq=430&q1=%22THRO%27+various+realms%22">Nott</a> (1795), # 96]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Brother, I come o'er many seas and lands <br>
<span class="tab">To the sad rite which pious love ordains, <br>
To pay thee the last gift that death demands; <br>
<span class="tab">And oft, though vain, invoke thy mute remains: <br>
Since death has ravish'd half myself in thee, <br>
Oh wretched brother, sadly torn from me! <br>
And now ere fate our souls shall re-unite, <br>
<span class="tab">To give me back all it hath snatch'd away, <br>
Receive the gifts, our fathers' ancient rite <br>
<span class="tab">To shades departed still was wont to pay; <br>
Gifts wet with tears of heartfelt grief that tell, <br>
And ever, brother, bless thee, and farewell! <br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Poems_of_Caius_Valerius_Catullus_Tra/kkjntjX5d14C?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=catullus+lamb&printsec=frontcover">Lamb</a> (1821)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>O'er many a sea, o'er many a stranger land, <br>
<span class="tab">I bring this tribute to thy lonely tomb, <br>
<span class="tab">My brother! and beside the narrow room, <br>
That holds thy silent ashes weeping stand. <br>
Vainly I call to thee. Who can command <br>
<span class="tab">An answer forth from Orcus' dreary gloom? <br>
<span class="tab">Oh, brother, brother, life lost all its bloom, <br>
When thou wert snatch'd from me with pitiless hand! <br>
A day will come, when we shall meet once more! <br>
<span class="tab">Meanwhile, these gifts, which to the honour'd grave <br>
Of those they loved in life our sires of yore<br>
<span class="tab">With pious hand and reverential gave, <br>
Accept! Gifts moisten'd with a brother's tears!<br>
<span class="tab">And now, farewell, and rest thee from all fears !<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.31175007358511&seq=160&q1=%22many+a+sea%22">T. Martin</a> (1861)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Brother! o'er many lands and oceans borne, <br>
<span class="tab">I reach thy grave, death's last sad rite to pay; <br>
To call thy silent dust in vain, and mourn, <br>
<span class="tab">Since ruthless fate has hurried thee away: <br>
<span class="tab">Woe 's me! yet now upon thy tomb I lay, <br>
All soak'd with tears for thee, thee loved so well, <br>
<span class="tab">What gifts our fathers gave the honour' d clay <br>
Of valued friends; take them, my grief they tell: <br>
And now, for ever hail! for ever fare-thee-well!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=loc.ark:/13960/t1hh7rq7f&seq=181&q1=%22many+lands+and+oceans%22&view=1up">Cranstoun</a> (1867)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Borne over many a land and many a sea,<br>
<span class="tab">Brother! I reach thy gloom-wrapt grave to pay<br>
The last sad office thou may'st claim from me, <br>
<span class="tab">And all in vain address thy silent clay:<br>
For thou art gone -- fell fate that from me tore <br>
<span class="tab">Thee, thee, my brother! ah, too cruel thought!<br>
I'll call thee, but I'll never hear thee more<br>
<span class="tab">Recount the deeds thy valiant arm hath wrought.<br>
And I shall never see thy face again, <br>
<span class="tab">Dearer than life; yet in my heart alway<br>
Assuredly shall fond affection reign,<br>
<span class="tab">And aye with grief's wan hues I'll tinge my lay:<br>
Yea, even as the Daulian bird her song <br>
<span class="tab">Outpours in accents sweetly-dolorous,<br>
When o'er the branch-gloom'd river, all night long, <br>
<span class="tab">She wails the fate of perish'd Itylus.<br>
Yet now what gifts our sires in ancient years<br>
<span class="tab">Paid those with whom in life they loved to dwell,<br>
Accept: -- all streaming with thy brother's tears; <br>
<span class="tab">And, brother! hail for aye! for aye farewell!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=loc.ark:/13960/t1hh7rq7f&seq=181&q1=%22borne+over+many%22&view=1up">Cranstoun</a> (1867), "from the text of Schwabe"]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Borne o'er many a land, o'er many a level of ocean,<br>
<span class="tab">Here to the grave I come, brother, of holy repose,<br>
Sadly the last poor gifts, death's simple duty, to bring thee;<br>
<span class="tab">Unto the silent dust vainly to murmur a cry.<br>
Since thy form deep-shrouded an evil destiny taketh<br>
<span class="tab">From me, O hapless ghost, brother, O heavily ta'en,<br>
Yet this bounty the while, these gifts ancestral of usance<br>
<span class="tab">Homely, the sad slight store piety grants to the tomb;<br>
Drench'd in a brother's tears, and weeping freshly, receive them;<br>
<span class="tab">Yea, take, brother, a long Ave, a timeless adieu.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/18867/pg18867-images.html#:~:text=Borne%20o%27er%20many,a%20timeless%20adieu.">Ellis</a> (1871)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Through many a land, o'er many a sea I come, <br>
<span class="tab">To sacrifice, dear brother, at thy tomb; <br>
With these last rites to drop the unheeded tear, <br>
<span class="tab">And call that name thou canst no longer hear. <br>
By oh ! my brother, since by fate's decree, <br>
<span class="tab">Alas ! too early, thou wast torn from me. <br>
Accept this offering to thy honoured shade, <br>
<span class="tab">By custom sanctioned -- by affection paid: <br>
And while these frequent tears my sorrow tell. <br>
<span class="tab">Take, dearest brother, this my last farewell.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=aeu.ark:/13960/t7cr6906m&seq=30&q1=%22Through+many+a+land%22">Bliss</a> (1872)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Through many lands and over many seas<br>
<span class="tab">I come, my Brother, to thine obsequies,<br>
To pay thee the last honours that remain,<br>
<span class="tab">And call upon thy voiceless dust, in vain.<br>
Since cruel fate has robbed me even of thee,<br>
<span class="tab">Unhappy Brother, snatched away from me,<br>
Now none the less the gifts our fathers gave,<br>
<span class="tab">The melancholy honours of the grave,<br>
Wet with my tears I bring to thee, and say<br>
<span class="tab">Farewell! farewell! for ever and a day.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Scarlet_Gown/bIpNAAAAYAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22through%20many%20lands%22">Murray</a> (1891)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Faring thro' many a folk and plowing many a sea-plain<br>
These sad funeral-rites (Brother!) to deal thee I come,<br>
So wi' the latest boons to the dead bestowed I may gift thee,<br>
And I may vainly address ashes that answer have none,<br>
Sithence of thee, very thee, to deprive me Fortune behested,<br>
Woe for thee, Brother forlore! Cruelly severed fro' me.<br>
...<br>
Yet in the meanwhile now what olden usage of forbears<br>
Brings as the boons that befit mournfullest funeral rites,<br>
Thine be these gifts which flow with tear-flood shed by thy brother,<br>
And, for ever and aye (Brother!) all hail and farewell.<br>
[tr. <a href="http://data.perseus.org/citations/urn:cts:latinLit:phi0472.phi001.perseus-eng1:101">Burton</a> (1893)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Through many nations and through many seas borne, I come, brother, for these sad funeral rites, that I may give the last gifts to the dead, and may vainly speak to your silent ashes, since fortune has taken yourself away from me. Ah, poor brother, undeservedly snatched from me. But now receive these gifts, which have been handed down in the ancient manner of ancestors, the sad gifts to the grave, drenched with a brother's tears, and for ever, brother, hail and farewell.<br>
[tr. <a href="http://data.perseus.org/citations/urn:cts:latinLit:phi0472.phi001.perseus-eng2:101">Smithers</a> (1894)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>By ways remote and distant waters sped, <br>
<span class="tab">Brother, to thy sad grave-side am I come, <br>
That I may give the last gifts to the dead, <br>
<span class="tab">And vainly parley with thine ashes dumb:<br>
Since she who now bestows and now denies <br>
<span class="tab">Hath ta'en thee, hapless brother, from mine eyes.<br>
But lo! these gifts, the heirlooms of past years, <br>
<span class="tab">Are made sad things to grace thy coffin shell; <br>
Take them, all drenched with a brother's tears, <br>
<span class="tab">And, brother, for all time, hail and farewell!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.32106001523304&seq=198&q1=%22by+ways+remote%22">Beardsley</a> (1896)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Homewards, a traveller, from many lands returning, <br>
<span class="tab">I greet thee, brother, only at thy grave.<br>
To thy dumb ashes telling o'er, in accents burning, <br>
<span class="tab">Those rites, 'tis said, departed spirits crave.<br>
All that I can -- with tears -- the words our fathers taught us -- <br>
<span class="tab">Which borne afar, like sound of sea-rocked bell. <br>
Perchance may reach thee on those sad and lonely waters, <br>
<span class="tab">Longed for, though late -- a brother's last farewell.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t6h132d4q&seq=96">Harman</a> (1897)] </blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Wandering through many countries and over many seas I come, my brother, to these sorrowful obsequies, to present you with the last guerdon of death, and speak, though in vain, to your silent ashes, since fortune has taken your own self away from me -- alas, my brother, so cruelly torn from me! Yet now meanwhile take these offerings, which by the custom of our fathers have been handed down -- a sorrowful tribute -- for a funeral sacrifice; take them, wet with many tears of a brother, and for ever, my brother, hail and farewell!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=coo.31924074296397&seq=158&q1=%22wandering+through%22">Warre Cornish</a> (1904); 1913 <a href="https://archive.org/details/L006CatullusPoemsTibullusPervigiliumVeneris/page/n187/mode/2up?q=%22wandering+through%22">Loeb edition</a> the same]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Borne over many lands and many seas, I come, O my brother, to the sad spot where you repose; that I may render to you the last sad rites of the dead, and call, although in vain, to your dumb ashes. Since fate has snatched your dear presence from my eyes, alas, O my brother, so cruelly taken from me, yet receive these last sad rites, that are according to the pious usages of our forefathers and are washed with a brother's many tears, and now for ever, O my brother, hail and farewell!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t4hm54w4w&seq=237&q1=%22Borne+over+many%22&format=plaintext&view=1up">Stuttaford</a> (1912)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Travelled o'er many a land and o'er the seas <br>
<span class="tab">Hither I come to thy sad obsequies, <br>
To pay thee, brother mine, death's farewell due, <br>
<span class="tab">And vainly bid thy silent dust adieu. <br>
Since fate has torn thy living self away,<br>
<span class="tab">(Woe, brother, snatched from me, alack aday!) <br>
Take, as our fathers used, till better things,<br>
<span class="tab">From me these sad time-honoured offerings <br>
Wet with a brother's tears. And so, for aye, <br>
<span class="tab">I greet thee, brother, and I bid good-bye.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.$b311029&seq=133&view=1up">Symons-Jeune</a> (1923)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>By many lands and over many a wave<br>
<span class="tab">I come, my brother, to your piteous grave,<br>
To bring you the last offering in death<br>
<span class="tab">And o'er dumb dust expend an idle breath.<br>
Yet take these gifts, brought as our fathers bade<br>
<span class="tab">For sorrow's tribute to the passing shade;<br>
A brother's tears have wet them o'er and o'er;<br>
<span class="tab">And so, my brother, hail, and farewell evermore!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Catullus#:~:text=By%20many%20lands,and%20farewell%20evermore!">Marris</a> (1924)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>From land to land, o'er many waters borne, <br>
<span class="tab">Brother, I come to these thy rites forlorn, <br>
The latest gift, the due of death, to pay, <br>
<span class="tab">The fruitless word to silent dust to say. <br>
Since death has reft thy living self from me, <br>
<span class="tab">Poor brother, stolen away so cruelly, <br>
Yet this the while, which ancient use decrees <br>
<span class="tab">Sad ritual of our sires for obsequies,<br>
Take, streaming with a brother's tears that tell <br>
<span class="tab">Of a last greeting, brother, a last farewell.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.$b267122&seq=154&q1=%22land+to+land%22">MacNaghten</a> (1925)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>O'er many a land, o'er many waters led, <br>
<span class="tab">Brother, my path to thy sad tomb is made, <br>
That I may give the last gifts to the dead <br>
<span class="tab">And vainly parley with thy silent shade; <br>
Since the blind goddess to the realm of night <br>
<span class="tab">Hath stol'n thee, hapless brother, from my sight.<br>
So now these gifts, by custom of past years, <br>
<span class="tab">I bring as offerings to thy funeral cell; <br>
Take them, all moistened with a brother's tears,<br>
<span class="tab">And brother, for all time, hail and farewell.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.32106015467548&seq=180&q1=brother">Wright</a> (1926)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote><span class="tab">Dear brother, I have come these many miles, through strange lands to this Eastern Continent<br>
<span class="tab">to see your grave, a poor sad monument of what you were, 0 brother.<br>
<span class="tab">And I have come too late; you cannot hear me; alone now I must speak<br>
<span class="tab">to these few ashes that were once your body and expect no answer.<br>
<span class="tab">I shall perform an ancient ritual over your remains, weeping, <br>
<span class="tab">(this plate of lentils for dead men to feast upon, wet with my tears)<br>
<span class="tab">O brother, here's my greeting: here's my hand forever welcoming you<br>
<span class="tab">and I forever saying: good-bye, good-bye.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.32106001542577&seq=358&q1=101">Gregory</a> (1931)] </blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Driven across many nations, across many oceans, <br>
I am here, my brother, for this final parting, <br>
to offer at last those gifts which the dead are given <br>
and to speak in vain to your unspeaking ashes, <br>
since bitter fortune forbids you to hear me or answer, <br>
O my wretched brother, so abruptly taken!  <br>
But now I must celebrate grief with funeral tributes <br>
offered the dead in the ancient way of the fathers; <br>
accept these presents, wet with my brotherly tears, and <br>
now & forever, my brother, hail & farewell.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Poems_of_Catullus/y_HafujaJM4C?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22driven%20across%22">C. Martin</a> (1979)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Carried over many seas, and through many nations,<br>
brother, I come to these sad funeral rites,<br>
to grant you the last gifts to the dead,<br>
and speak in vain to your mute ashes.<br>
Seeing that fate has stolen from me your very self.<br>
Ah alas, my brother, taken shamefully from me,<br>
yet, by the ancient custom of our parents,<br>
receive these sad gifts, offerings to the dead,<br>
soaked deeply with a brother’s tears,<br>
and for eternity, brother: ‘Hail and Farewell!’<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/Catullus.php#anchor_Toc531846828:~:text=Carried%20over%20many,Hail%20and%20Farewell!%E2%80%99">Kline</a> (2001)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>A journey across many seas and through many nations<br>
has brought me here, brother, for these poor obsequies,<br>
to let me address, all in vain, your silent ashes,<br>
and render you the last service for the dead,<br>
since fortune, alas, has bereft me of your person,<br>
my poor brother, so unjustly taken from me.<br>
Still, here now I offer those gifts which by ancestral custom<br>
are presented, sad offerings, at such obsequies:<br>
accept them, soaked as they are with a brother’s weeping,<br>
and, brother, forever now hail and farewell.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Poems_of_Catullus/4qsYinaVXQ8C?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22a%20journey%20across%22">Green</a> (2005)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Carried through many nations and many seas,<br>
I arrive, Brother, at these miserable funeral rites,<br>
So that I might bestow you with the final gift of death<br>
And might speak in vain to the silent ash.<br>
Since Fortune has stolen you yourself from me,<br>
Alas, wretched brother stolen undeservedly from me,<br>
Meanwhile, however, receive now these flowing with much<br>
Brotherly weeping, these which in the ancient custom<br>
Of our parents were handed down as a sad gift for funeral rites,<br>
And forever, Brother, hail and farewell.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/The_Poetry_of_Gaius_Valerius_Catullus/101">Wikibooks</a> (2017); <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Translation:Catullus_101">Wikisource</a> (2021)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Drawn across many nations and seas<br>
I come to your pitiful resting place, brother<br>
To present you with a final gift at death<br>
And to try to pointlessly comfort mute ash --<br>
because chance has stolen you away from me.<br>
My sad brother, unfairly taken from me.<br>
For now, accept this, the ancient custom of our ancestors<br>
Handed down as the sad gift for the grave,<br>
Given with a flowing flood of fraternal tears<br>
And forever, my brother, hail and farewell.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://sententiaeantiquae.com/2021/12/12/say-goodbye-catullus-to-the-shores-of-asia-minor/#:~:text=Drawn%20across%20many,hail%20and%20farewell.">Grenadier</a> (2021)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Through many nations and across many seas<br>
I’ve come, my brother, for these sad burial rites --<br>
To pay you the final tribute owed the dead,<br>
And to speak, in vain, with your speechless ashes,<br>
Since fortune has snatched you -- you! -- away from me.<br>
Oh! My poor brother, cruelly taken from me!<br>
Still, there’s the matter of the burial rites,<br>
Preserved in antique customs of our line<br>
And passed on in the melancholic tribute:<br>
Receive them, though quite wet with fraternal tears.<br>
And now, for all time, my brother,<br>
I salute you and say goodbye.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://sententiaeantiquae.com/2021/02/23/sappho-catullus-on-brothers/#:~:text=Through%20many%20nations,and%20say%20goodbye.">Benn</a> (2021)]</blockquote><br>						</span>
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		<title>Twain, Mark -- The Tragedy of Pudd&#8217;nhead Wilson, ch.   9 epigraph &#8220;Pudd&#8217;nhead Wilson&#8217;s Calendar&#8221; (1894)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/twain-mark/29297/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 11 May 2015 12:41:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Twain, Mark]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[birth]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Why is it that we rejoice at a birth and grieve at a funeral? It is because we are not the person involved.]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Why is it that we rejoice at a birth and grieve at a funeral? It is because we are not the person involved.</p>
<br><b>Mark Twain</b> (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]<br><i>The Tragedy of Pudd&#8217;nhead Wilson</i>, ch.   9 epigraph &#8220;Pudd&#8217;nhead Wilson&#8217;s Calendar&#8221; (1894) 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Tragedy_of_Pudd_nhead_Wilson/G1rdJ9sKK9wC?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22rejoice%20at%20birth%22" target="_blank">Source</a>)
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		<title>Mountbatten (Lord) -- (Attributed)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/mountbatten-lord/28511/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 05 Mar 2015 14:38:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[I can&#8217;t think of a more wonderful thanksgiving for the life I have had than that everyone should be jolly at my funeral. Quoted in Richard Hough, Mountbatten (1980).]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I can&#8217;t think of a more wonderful thanksgiving for the life I have had than that everyone should be jolly at my funeral.</p>
<br><b>Lord Mountbatten</b> (1900-1979) British statesman and naval officer (Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas Mountbatten, 1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma, b. Prince Louis of Battenberg)<br>(Attributed) 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=Vc82wXIwIPIC&dq=editions%3AWOcBjWo03PwC&focus=searchwithinvolume&q=jolly" target="_blank">Source</a>)
										<br><br><span class="cite">
						

Quoted in Richard Hough, <i>Mountbatten</i> (1980).						</span>
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		<title>Tacitus -- &#8220;A Dialogue on Oratory,&#8221; sec. 13, Dialogus, Agricola, Germania</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/tacitus/10602/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 16 Apr 2010 12:55:24 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Let the sweet Muses lead me to their soft retreats, their living fountains, and melodious groves, where I may dwell remote from care, master of myself &#8230; let me no more be seen in the wrangling forum, a pale and odious candidate for precarious fame &#8230; let me live free from solicitude &#8230; and when [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Let the sweet Muses lead me to their soft retreats, their living fountains, and melodious groves, where I may dwell remote from care, master of myself &#8230; let me no more be seen in the wrangling forum, a pale and odious candidate for precarious fame &#8230; let me live free from solicitude &#8230; and when nature shall give the signal to retire may I possess no more than I may bequeath to whom I will. At my funeral let no token of sorrow be seen, no pompous mockery of woe. Crown me with chaplets; strew flowers on my grave, and let my friends erect no vain memorial to tell where my remains are lodged.</p>
<br><b>Tacitus</b> (c.56-c.120) Roman historian, orator, politician [Publius or Gaius Cornelius Tacitus]<br>&#8220;A Dialogue on Oratory,&#8221; sec. 13, <i>Dialogus, Agricola, Germania</i> 
														<br><br><span class="cite">
						

In <em>The Works of Tacitus</em>, Oxford trans., rev., vol. 2, (1854). The above is the version read at the funeral for Justice Hugo Black. The printed version differs in reading, at the start, "Me let the sweet Muses lead," and in using "anxious" for "odious."<br><br>

Alt trans. (Peterson (1914)): "As for myself, may the 'sweet Muses,' as Virgil says, bear me away to their holy places where sacred streams do flow, beyond the reach of anxiety and care, and free from the obligation of performing each day some task that goes against the grain. May I no longer have anything to do with the mad racket and the hazards of the forum, or tremble as I try a fall with white-faced Fame. I do not want to be roused from sleep by the clatter of morning callers or by some breathless messenger from the palace; I do not care, in drawing my will, to give a money-pledge for its safe execution through anxiety as to what is to happen afterwards; I wish for no larger estate than I can leave to the heir of my own free choice. Some day or other the last hour will strike also for me, and my prayer is that my effigy may be set up beside my grave, not grim and scowling, but all smiles and garlands, and that no one shall seek to honour my memory either by a motion in the senate or by a petition to the Emperor."						</span>
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		<title>Auden, W. H. -- &#8220;Stop All the Clocks [Funeral Blues],&#8221; st. 3 (1936)</title>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 20 Jan 2010 13:51:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Auden, W. H.]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. This stanza is not in the original version of the poem, for the verse play The Ascent of F6 (1936) [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>He was my North, my South, my East and West,<br />
My working week and my Sunday rest,<br />
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;<br />
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.</p>
<br><b>W. H. Auden</b> (1907-1973) Anglo-American poet [Wystan Hugh Auden]<br>&#8220;Stop All the Clocks [Funeral Blues],&#8221; st. 3 (1936) 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://allpoetry.com/funeral-blues#:~:text=He%20was%20my%20North%2C%20my%20South%2C%20my%20East%20and%20West%2C%0AMy%20working%20week%20and%20my%20Sunday%20rest%2C%0AMy%20noon%2C%20my%20midnight%2C%20my%20talk%2C%20my%20song%3B%0AI%20thought%20that%20love%20would%20last%20forever%3A%20I%20was%20wrong." target="_blank">Source</a>)
										<br><br><span class="cite">
						


This stanza is not in the <a href="https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.46584/page/n89/mode/2up?q=%22all+the+clocks%22">original version of the poem</a>, for the verse play <i>The Ascent of F6</i> (1936) (with Christopher Isherwood). <br><br> 

Instead, it appears in the revised cabaret song that Auden wrote in 1937-1938. It is this latter version, less tied to the play, that is commonly collected, and that gained popularity  when recited in the film <i>Four Weddings and a Funeral</i> (1994).

						</span>
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		<title>Twain, Mark -- (Misattributed)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/twain-mark/5063/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 09 Nov 2006 13:41:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Twain, Mark]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[I didn&#8217;t attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it. This appears to have originally been based on a comment by lawyer and jurist Ebenezer Rockwood Hoar in 1884 regarding the death of abolitionist figure Wendell Phillips. In retelling it has been attributed to (and targeted at) a variety [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I didn&#8217;t attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.</p>
<br><b>Mark Twain</b> (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]<br>(Misattributed) 
														<br><br><span class="cite">
						

This appears to have originally been based on a comment by lawyer and jurist Ebenezer Rockwood Hoar in 1884 regarding the death of abolitionist figure <a href="/author/phillips-wendell/">Wendell Phillips</a>. In retelling it has been attributed to (and targeted at) a variety of people.  It was not attached to Twain until 1938, and the connection was widely popularized by a reference from columnist Walter Winchell (1946), and by Hal Holbrook's one-man show, <i><a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Mark_Twain_Tonight/BcIsAAAAIAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22approved%20of%20it%22">Mark Twain Tonight</a></i> (1954).<br><br>

For more discussion of this quotation's origins, see <a href="https://quoteinvestigator.com/2011/05/07/funeral-approved/#cee11023-339a-4992-a039-67a8200acc8e-link" title="Quote Origin: I Did Not Attend the Funeral, But I Sent a Nice Letter Saying I Approved of It – Quote Investigator®">Quote Origin: I Did Not Attend the Funeral, But I Sent a Nice Letter Saying I Approved of It – Quote Investigator®</a>.
						</span>
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