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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>
		<category><![CDATA[burial]]></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>Addison, Joseph -- Essay (1711-03-30), &#8220;Thoughts in Westminster Abbey,&#8221; The Spectator, No.  26</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/addison-joseph/80244/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 17 Nov 2025 16:32:51 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Addison, Joseph]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Upon my going into the church, I entertained myself with the digging of a grave; and saw in every shovelful of it that was thrown up, the fragment of a bone or skull intermixt with a kind of fresh mouldering earth, that some time or other had a place in the composition of a human [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Upon my going into the church, I entertained myself with the digging of a grave; and saw in every shovelful of it that was thrown up, the fragment of a bone or skull intermixt with a kind of fresh mouldering earth, that some time or other had a place in the composition of a human body. Upon this, I began to consider with myself what innumerable multitudes of people lay confused together under the pavement of that ancient cathedral; how men and women, friends and enemies, priests and soldiers, monks and prebendaries, were crumbled amongst one another, and blended together in the same common mass; how beauty, strength, and youth, with old age, weakness and deformity, lay undistinguished in the same promiscuous heap of matter.</p>
<br><b>Joseph Addison</b> (1672–1719) English essayist, poet, statesman<br>Essay (1711-03-30), &#8220;Thoughts in Westminster Abbey,&#8221; <i>The Spectator</i>, No.  26 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Westminster_Abbey_%28Addison%29#:~:text=Upon%20my%20going,heap%20of%20matter." target="_blank">Source</a>)
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		<title>Millay, Edna St. Vincent -- Poem (1928-07), &#8220;Dirge without Music,&#8221; st. 1, Harper&#8217;s Magazine, Vol. 157</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/millay-edna-st-vincent/78782/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 04 Sep 2025 19:55:09 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind. Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned. [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.<br />
<span class="tab">So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind.<br />
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned<br />
<span class="tab">With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.</span></span></p>
<br><b>Edna St. Vincent Millay</b> (1892–1950) American poet<br>Poem (1928-07), &#8220;Dirge without Music,&#8221; st. 1, <i>Harper&#8217;s Magazine</i>, Vol. 157 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015056094587&seq=257&q1=%22shutting+away+of+loving+hearts%22" target="_blank">Source</a>)
										<br><br><span class="cite">
						

<a href="https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.209690/page/n55/mode/2up?q=%22shutting+away+of+loving+hearts%22">Collected</a> in <i>The Buck In The Snow And Other Poems</i> (1928).

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		<title>Hugo, Victor -- Les Misérables, Part 5 &#8220;Jean Valjean,&#8221; Book  9 &#8220;Supreme Shadow, Surpreme Dawn,&#8221; ch.  6 (5.9.6) (1862) [tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/hugo-victor/78309/</link>
		<comments>https://wist.info/hugo-victor/78309/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 11 Aug 2025 19:50:02 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Hugo, Victor]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[He is asleep. Though his mettle was sorely tried, He lived, and when he lost his angel, died. It happened calmly, on its own, The way night comes when day is done. [Il dort. Quoique le sort fût pour lui bien étrange, Il vivait. Il mourut quand il n’eut plus son ange, La chose simplement [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>He is asleep. Though his mettle was sorely tried,<br />
He lived, and when he lost his angel, died.<br />
It happened calmly, on its own,<br />
The way night comes when day is done.</p>
<p><em>[Il dort. Quoique le sort fût pour lui bien étrange,<br />
Il vivait. Il mourut quand il n’eut plus son ange,<br />
La chose simplement d’elle-même arriva,<br />
Comme la nuit se fait lorsque le jour s’en va.]</em></p>
<br><b>Victor Hugo</b> (1802–1885) French writer, journalist, human rights activist, politician<br><i>Les Misérables</i>, Part 5 &#8220;Jean Valjean,&#8221; Book  9 &#8220;Supreme Shadow, Surpreme Dawn,&#8221; ch.  6 (5.9.6) (1862) [tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)] 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://archive.org/details/lesmisrabl1987hugo/page/1462/mode/2up?q=%22he+is+asleep%22" target="_blank">Source</a>)
										<br><br><span class="cite">
						

These final lines of the book are an epitaph once penciled on the stone over Valjean's unmarked grave. <a href="https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.43835/page/n1233/mode/2up?q=%22Quoique+le+sort+fut%22">Wilbour</a> and <a href="https://archive.org/details/lesmiserables0000vict_z1p0/page/288/mode/2up?q=%22il+dort%22">Wraxall</a> leave the lines in French.<br><br>

(<a href="https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Les_Mis%C3%A9rables/Tome_5/Livre_9/06#:~:text=Il%20dort.%20Quoique%20le%20sort%20f%C3%BBt%20pour%20lui%20bien%20%C3%A9trange%2C%0AIl%20vivait.%20Il%20mourut%20quand%20il%20n%E2%80%99eut%20plus%20son%20ange%2C%0ALa%20chose%20simplement%20d%E2%80%99elle%2Dm%C3%AAme%20arriva%2C%0AComme%20la%20nuit%20se%20fait%20lorsque%20le%20jour%20s%E2%80%99en%20va.">Source (French)</a>). Alternate translations:<br><br>
 
<blockquote>He sleeps. Although his fate was very strange, he lived. He died when he had no longer his angel. The thing came to pass simply, of itself, as the night comes when day is gone.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Les_Mis%C3%A9rables/Volume_5/Book_Ninth/Chapter_6#:~:text=He%20sleeps.%20Although%20his%20fate%20was%20very%20strange%2C%20he%20lived.%20He%20died%20when%20he%20had%20no%20longer%20his%20angel.%20The%20thing%20came%20to%20pass%20simply%2C%20of%20itself%2C%20as%20the%20night%20comes%20when%20day%20is%20gone.">Hapgood</a> (1887)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>He sleeps; although so much he was denied,<br>
He lived. And when his dear love left him, died.<br>
It happened of itself, in the calm way<br>
That in the evening night-time follows day.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/lesmiserables0000tran/page/1200/mode/2up?q=%22he+sleeps+although%22">Denny</a> (1976)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>He sleeps. Though fate dealt with him strangely,<br>
He lived. Bereft of his angel, he died.<br>
It came about simplly, of itself,<br>
As night follows when the day is ended.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/lesmiserables0000hugo_j4t0/page/1304/mode/2up?q=%22he+sleeps+though%22">Donougher</a> (2013)] </blockquote><br>




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		<title>Ebner-Eschenbach, Marie von -- Aphorisms [Aphorismen], No. 293 (1880) [tr. Wister (1883)]</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/von-ebner-eschenbach-marie/77287/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jul 2025 21:58:12 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Ebner-Eschenbach, Marie von]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Of what value is fame, when one cannot enjoy posthumous fame? [Was liegt am Ruhm, da man den Nachruhm nicht erleben kann?] (Source (German)).]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Of what value is fame, when one cannot enjoy posthumous fame?</p>
<p><em>[Was liegt am Ruhm, da man den Nachruhm nicht erleben kann?]</em></p>
<br><b>Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach</b> (1830–1916) Austrian writer<br><i>Aphorisms [Aphorismen]</i>, No. 293 (1880) [tr. Wister (1883)] 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Aphorisms/pwEbAAAAYAAJ?q=proof&gbpv=1&bsq=%22posthumous%20fame%22" target="_blank">Source</a>)
										<br><br><span class="cite">
						

(<a href="https://archive.org/details/gesammelteschrif01ebneuoft/page/52/mode/2up?q=%22Was+liegt+am+9+da+man%22">Source (German)</a>). <br><br>




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		<title>Omar Khayyam -- Rubáiyát [رباعیات], Bod. #  29 [tr. Talbot (1908)]</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/omar-khayyam/75494/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 10 Mar 2025 04:49:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Behind the veil the Gods their Secrets keep, And past that curtain none may hope to peep; One plot of earth is all we may secure. Drink, then! for such philosophies are cheap. Other translations: No one has ever passed behind the veil that masks the secrets of God. No one shall ever pass behind [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Behind the veil the Gods their Secrets keep,<br />
And past that curtain none may hope to peep;<br />
<span class="tab">One plot of earth is all we may secure.<br />
Drink, then! for such philosophies are cheap.<br />
<a href="https://wist.info/wp/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/rubaiyat-29.gif"><img decoding="async" src="https://wist.info/wp/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/rubaiyat-29-300x150.gif" alt="Rubaiyat quatrain (Bodleian) 29" title="Rubaiyat quatrain (Bodleian) 29" width="300" height="150" class="alignright size-medium wp-image-75495" /></a></span></p>
<br><b>Omar Khayyám </b> (1048–1123) Persian poet, mathematician, philosopher, astronomer [عمر خیام]<br><i>Rubáiyát</i> [رباعیات], Bod. #  29 [tr. Talbot (1908)] 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://archive.org/details/proseandverse_heronallen_talbot_rubaiyatofomarkhayyam_text/page/n13/mode/2up?q=29" target="_blank">Source</a>)
										<br><br><span class="cite">
						

Other translations:<br><br>

<blockquote>No one has ever passed behind the veil that masks the secrets of God. No one shall ever pass behind it ; there is no other dwellingplace for us than the bosom of the earth. Woe 's me that this secret, too, should be so short.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/rubiytofomark00omar/page/74/mode/2up?q=%22No+one+has+ever+passed%22">McCarthy</a> (1879), # 19]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>All mortal ken is bounded by the veil, <br>
To see beyond man's sight is all too frail;<br>
<span class="tab">Yea! earth's dark bosom is his only home; -- <br>
Alas! 'twere long to tell the doleful tale.<br>
[tr. Whinfield (1883), <a href="https://archive.org/details/rubiytofomark00omar/page/158/mode/2up?q=%22all+mortal+ken%22"># 28</a> or <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Quatrains_of_Omar_Khayyam_(tr._Whinfield,_1883)/Quatrains_1-100#:~:text=All%20mortal%20ken%20is%20bounded%20by%20the%20veil%2C%0ATo%20see%20beyond%20man%27s%20sight%20is%20all%20too%20frail%3B%0A%C2%A0%C2%A0%C2%A0%C2%A0Yea!%20earth%27s%20dark%20bosom%20is%20his%20only%20home%3A%E2%80%94%0AAlas!%20%27twere%20long%20to%20tell%20the%20doleful%20tale."># 47</a>]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>For none behind the veil of myst'ries way is;<br>
None in the secret of the world's array is:<br>
<span class="tab">Save in earth's breast, for us no place of stay is;<br>
Give ear, for no light matter this I say is.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://rubaiyatconcordance.org/translations/payne---1898.html#:~:text=For%20none%20behind%20the%20veil%20of%20myst%27ries%20way%20is%3B%0ANone%20in%20the%20secret%20of%20the%20world%27s%20array%20is%3A%0ASave%20in%20earth%27s%20breast%2C%20for%20us%20no%20place%20of%20stay%20is%3B%0AGive%20ear%2C%20for%20no%20light%20matter%20this%20I%20say%20is.">Payne</a> (1898), # 60]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>No one can pass behind the curtain that veils the secret,<br>
the mind of no one is cognizant of what is there;<br>
<span class="tab">save in the heart of earth we have no haven.<br>
Drink wine, for to such talk there is no end.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/proseandverse_heronallen_talbot_rubaiyatofomarkhayyam_text/page/n13/mode/2up?q=29">Heron-Allen</a> (1898), # 29]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Behind that veil no man has found a way,<br>
Nor knows he anything of life's array,<br>
<span class="tab">He has no home but underneath the clay;<br>
Thy truth thy sorrow is, O woeful lay!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://rubaiyatconcordance.org/translations/cadell---1899.html#:~:text=Behind%20that%20veil%20no%20man%20has%20found%20a%20way%2C%0ANor%20knows%20he%20anything%20of%20life%27s%20array%2C%0AHe%20has%20no%20home%20but%20underneath%20the%20clay%3B%0AThy%20truth%20thy%20sorrow%20is%2C%20O%20woeful%20lay!">Cadell</a> (1899), # 14]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>The secret 's hidden from the mortal eye,<br>
Nor living soul can read the mystery;<br>
<span class="tab">Save in the heart of earth, we have no rest;<br>
So fill the bowl, 'twill soon be time to die.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://rubaiyatconcordance.org/translations/roe---1906.html#:~:text=The%20secret%20%27s%20hidden%20from%20the%20mortal%20eye%2C%0ANor%20living%20soul%20can%20read%20the%20mystery%3B%0ASave%20in%20the%20heart%20of%20earth%2C%20we%20have%20no%20rest%3B%0ASo%20fill%20the%20bowl%2C%20%27twill%20soon%20be%20time%20to%20die.">Roe</a> (1906), # 19] </blockquote><br>

<blockquote>For none is there a way behind the veil.<br>
Who tries to pierce its secrets but doth fail?<br>
<span class="tab">The only place of rest is earth's dark breast,<br>
Alas, that far from short should be the tale!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://rubaiyatconcordance.org/translations/thompson---1906.html#:~:text=For%20none%20is%20there%20a%20way%20behind%20the%20veil.%0AWho%20tries%20to%20pierce%20its%20secrets%20but%20doth%20fail%3F%0AThe%20only%20place%20of%20rest%20is%20earth%27s%20dark%20breast%2C%0AAlas%2C%20that%20far%20from%20short%20should%20be%20the%20tale!">Thompson</a> (1906), # 29]  </blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Behind the veil of the secrets there is no way for anybody.<br>
Of this scheme of things the soul of no man has any knowledge.<br>
<span class="tab">There is no dwelling-place except in the heart of the dust.<br>
Drink wine, for such tales are not short to tell.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://rubaiyatconcordance.org/translations/christensen---1927.html#:~:text=Behind%20the%20veil%20of%20the%20secrets%20there%20is%20no%20way%20for%20anybody.%0AOf%20this%20scheme%20of%20things%20the%20soul%20of%20no%20man%20has%20any%20knowledge.%0AThere%20is%20no%20dwelling%2Dplace%20except%20in%20the%20heart%20of%20the%20dust.%0ADrink%20wine%2C%20for%20such%20tales%20are%20not%20short%20to%20tell.">Christensen</a> (1927), # 61]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>No one has access to the veil of mystery;<br>
Of this system of life no one has any knowledge.<br>
<span class="tab">Except in the heart of the earth there is no resting-place.<br>
Listen, for these tales are not short.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://rubaiyatconcordance.org/translations/rosen---1928.html#:~:text=No%20one%20has%20access%20to%20the%20veil%20of%20mystery%3B%0AOf%20this%20system%20of%20life%20no%20one%20has%20any%20knowledge.%0AExcept%20in%20the%20heart%20of%20the%20earth%20there%20is%20no%20resting%2Dplace.%0AListen%2C%20for%20these%20tales%20are%20not%20short.">Rosen</a> (1928), # 42]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Behind the secret curtain none can go,<br>
How life is decked and painted none can know;<br>
<span class="tab">But then we have to wait in dusty pits -- <br>
Alas this endless tale! and weary show!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://rubaiyatconcordance.org/translations/tirtha---1941.html#:~:text=Behind%20the%20secret%20curtain%20none%20can%20go%2C%0AHow%20life%20is%20decked%20and%20painted%20none%20can%20know%3B%0ABut%20then%20we%20have%20to%20wait%20in%20dusty%20pits%E2%80%94%0AAlas%20this%20endless%20tale!%20and%20weary%20show!">Tirtha</a> (1941), # 148]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>No man has the way within the veil of mysteries; of this arrangement the soul of none is aware: there is no alighting-place, save in the heart of the dark earth -- drink wine, for such fables are not short.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/isbn_0856680389/page/92/mode/2up">Bowen</a> (1976), # 46]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>The world we look at is a painted veil <br>
<span class="tab">Which hides God’s presence and the Will Divine, <br>
And since its legends are not briefly told, <br>
<span class="tab">Here is their gist -- imbibe it with your wine: <br>
This world’s the only pleasance that we know, <br>
<span class="tab">The home where we’ve been cherished since our birth, <br>
And, when we die, our bodies lie at peace <br>
<span class="tab">Within a darkened sanctuary of earth.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/isbn_0856680389/page/92/mode/2up?q=%22Which+hides+God%E2%80%99s+presence%22">Bowen</a> (1976), # 46, "The World"]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>No one knows the way through the curtain of mysteries,<br>
No one's soul has true knowledge of this natural life,<br>
<span class="tab">There is no resting-place but in the heart of earth,<br>
Drink wine because these tales are never finished.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Ruba_iyat_of_Omar_Khayyam/sUN5XLzv8lMC?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=158">Avery/Heath-Stubbs</a> (1979), # 158]</blockquote><br>						</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>
		<category><![CDATA[brother]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[death]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[farewell]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[funeral]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grave]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grief]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mourning]]></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>
        <!-- DCH Insert author info (category description) then (Source) and then put the extra info (MORE) below that. -->
			<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>). Other 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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                <!-- DCH Modify the title to give the category (quote author) at the beginning of it. -->
		<title>Catullus -- Carmina #  96 [tr. MacNaghten (1925), &#8220;On the Death of Quintilia, Wife of Calvus&#8221;]</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/catullus/73510/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 19 Dec 2024 01:08:23 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Catullus]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[afterlife]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[death]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grave]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grief]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grieving]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mourning]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[spirit]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tomb]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[If any solace, any joy may fall, Calvus, to silent sepulchres through tears, When the lost love regretful we recall And weep the parted friend of early years, Then, sure, Quintilia is not wholly sad, Untimely lost: your love has made her glad. [Si quicquam mutis gratum acceptumve sepulcris accidere a nostro, Calve, dolore potest, [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>If any solace, any joy may fall,<br />
<span class="tab">Calvus, to silent sepulchres through tears,<br />
When the lost love regretful we recall<br />
<span class="tab">And weep the parted friend of early years,<br />
Then, sure, Quintilia is not wholly sad,<br />
<span class="tab">Untimely lost: your love has made her glad.</p>
<p><em>[Si quicquam mutis gratum acceptumve sepulcris<br />
accidere a nostro, Calve, dolore potest,<br />
quo desiderio veteres renovamus amores<br />
atque olim junctas flemus amicitias,<br />
certe non tanto mors immatura dolori est<br />
Quintiliae, quantum gaudet amore tuo.]</em></span></span></span></p>
<br><b>Catullus</b> (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]<br>Carmina #  96 [tr. MacNaghten (1925), &#8220;On the Death of Quintilia, Wife of Calvus&#8221;] 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.$b267122&seq=155&q1=quintilia&view=1up" target="_blank">Source</a>)
										<br><br><span class="cite">
						

(<a href="http://data.perseus.org/citations/urn:cts:latinLit:phi0472.phi001.perseus-lat1:96">Source (Latin)</a>). Other translations:<br><br>

<blockquote>If ever to the dumb, sepulcrhal urn<br>
<span class="tab">The tribute of a tear could grateful prove;<br>
What timne each recollected scene we mourn,<br>
<span class="tab">Each deed of ancient friendship, and of love:<br>
Less sure, fond youth, must thy Quintilia grieve<br>
<span class="tab">That she by death's cold hand untimely fell;<br>
Than joys her parted spirit to perceive<br>
<span class="tab">How much her Calvus lov'd her, and how well!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t6154g976&seq=420&q1=%22dumb,+sepulchral%22">Nott</a> (1795), # 91 "To Calvus, on Quintilia]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Calvus, if any joy from mortal tears<br>
<span class="tab">Can touch the feelings of the silent dead;<br>
When dwells regret on loves of former years,<br>
<span class="tab">Or weeps o'er friendships that have long been fled,<br>
Oh! then far less will be Quintilia's woe<br>
<span class="tab">At early death and fate's severe decree,<br>
Than the pure pleasure she will feel to know<br>
<span class="tab">How well, how truly she was loved by thee!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_poems_of_Caius_Valerius_Catullus_tr/j10UAAAAQAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22calvus%20if%20any%22">Lamb</a> (1821), # 90 "To Calvus, on the Death of Quintilia"]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Calvus, if those now silent in the tomb<br>
<span class="tab">Can feel the touch of pleasure in our tears,<br>
For those we loved, who perished in their bloom,<br>
<span class="tab">And the departed friends of former years;<br>
Oh, then, full surely thy Quinctilia's woe,<br>
<span class="tab">For the untimely fate that bade ye part,<br>
Will fade before the bliss she feels ot know,<br>
<span class="tab">How every dear she is unto thy heart!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.31175007358511&seq=158&q1=calvus">T. Martin</a> (1861), "To Calvus"]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Calvus! if from our grief aught can accrue <br>
<span class="tab">The silent dead to solace or to cheer, <br>
When fond regret broods o'er old loves anew, <br>
<span class="tab">And o'er lost friendships sheds the bitter tear <br>
Oh ! then her grief at death's untimely blow <br>
<span class="tab">To thy Quintilia; far, far less must prove <br>
Than the pure joy her soul must feel, to know <br>
<span class="tab">Thy true, unchanging, ever-during love.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=loc.ark:/13960/t1hh7rq7f&seq=176&q1=quintilia">Cranstoun</a> (1867), "To Calvus, on teh Death of Quintilia"]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If to the silent dead aught sweet or tender ariseth,<br>
<span class="tab">Calvus, of our dim grief's common humanity born;<br>
When to a love long cold some pensive pity recalls us,<br>
<span class="tab">When for a friend long lost wakes some unhappy regret;<br>
Not so deeply, be sure, Quintilia's early departing<br>
<span class="tab">Grieves her, as in thy love dureth a plenary joy.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/18867/pg18867-images.html#:~:text=If%20to%20the%20silent,dureth%20a%20plenary%20joy.">Ellis</a> (1871)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If to the dumb deaf tomb can aught or grateful or pleasing<br>
(Calvus!) ever accrue rising from out of our dule,<br>
Wherewith yearning desire renews our loves in the bygone,<br>
And for long friendships lost many a tear must be shed;<br>
Certès, never so much for doom of premature death-day<br>
Must thy Quintilia mourn as she is joyed by thy love.<br>
[tr. <a href="http://data.perseus.org/citations/urn:cts:latinLit:phi0472.phi001.perseus-eng1:96">Burton</a> (1893) "To Calvus anent Dead Quintilia"]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Calvus, if anything pleasing or welcome from our grief can have an effect on silent graves, then with its longing we renew old loves and weep friendships once lost, surely Quintilia does not mourn her premature death as much as she rejoices in your love.<br>
[tr. <a href="http://data.perseus.org/citations/urn:cts:latinLit:phi0472.phi001.perseus-eng2:96">Smithers</a> (1894)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If living sorrows any boon<br>
Unto the silent grave can give,<br>
<span class="tab">When sad remembrances revive<br>
Old loves and friendships fugitive,<br>
She sorrows less she died so soon<br>
<span class="tab">Than joys your love is still alive.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.32106001523304&seq=196&q1=%22if+living+sorrows%22">Symons</a> (c. 1900)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If the silent grave can receive any pleasure, or sweetness at all from our grief, Calvus, the grief and regret with which we renew our old loves, and weep for long lost friendships, surely Quintilia feels less sorrow for her too early death, than pleasure from your love.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=coo.31924074296397&seq=156&q1=%22quintilia%22">Warre Cornish</a> (1904)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If our grief, Calvus, can give any pleasure or consolation to the buried dead, and the yearning with which we re-enkindle old loves, and weep lost friends; then surely Quintilia; must feel less sorrow for her untimely end than joy in your love<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t4hm54w4w&seq=230&q1=quintilia">Stuttaford</a> (1912)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If the silent grave can receive any pleasure, or sweetness at all from our grief, Calvus, the grief and regret with which we make our old loves live again, and weep for long-lost friendships, surely Quintilia feels less sorrow for her too early death, than pleasure from your love.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/L006CatullusPoemsTibullusPervigiliumVeneris/page/n183/mode/2up?q=quintilia">Warre Cornish</a> (Loeb) (1913)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If into the silent tomb can steal <br>
<span class="tab">Some tenderness, some thought devine, <br>
If aught from this life the dead can feel, <br>
<span class="tab">Then, Calvus, be this solace thine.<br>
When we mourn old friends with longing heart; <br>
<span class="tab">For dear dead loves in anguish cry, <br>
Oh, there, do they feel the hot tears start, <br>
<span class="tab">Touched by a love that cannot die?<br>
If this be, Calvus, thy sweet girl wife. <br>
<span class="tab">There in the tomb shall less grief know <br>
For her spring time lost, her broken life, <br>
<span class="tab">Than joy in thy love that loved her so.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t4pk0h310&seq=76&q1=xcvi">Stewart</a> (1915)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If yearning grief can pierce the tomb,<br>
<span class="tab">Reach silent souls and cheer their gloom, <br>
When, Calvus, we lost loves regret, <br>
<span class="tab">And mourn the dear we ne'er forget, <br>
Quintilia'll cease her death to rue, <br>
<span class="tab">For joy she's proved your love so true.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.$b311029&seq=132&q1=quintilia&view=1up">Symons-Jeune</a> (1923), "To Calvus on Quintilia"]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If from our anguish to the voiceless tomb <br>
<span class="tab">Some meed of pleasure and of joy may come <br>
When we recall the love we felt of yore <br>
<span class="tab">And the dear face whom now we see no more, <br>
Then know thy sorrow gives thy wife beneath <br>
<span class="tab">A joy surpassing all the pains of death.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.32106015467548&seq=180&q1=quintilia&view=1up">Wright</a> (1926), "To Calvus on the Death of His Wife Quintilia"]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If anything can pierce impenetrable earth and echo in the silence<br>
of the grave, my Calvus, it is our sad memory<br>
of those we love. (Our longing for them makes them bloom again,<br>
quickened with love and friendship,<br>
even though they left us long ago, heavy with tears).<br>
Surely, yur Quintilia now no longer cries against powerful death<br>
(who had taken her away from you too soon and she was gone).<br>
Look, she is radiant, fixed in your mind, happy forever.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.32106001542577&seq=346&q1=quintilia">Gregory</a> (1931)] </blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If those in their silent graves can receive any pleasure or comfort at all, Calvus, from our lamenting, from that desire which we rekindle former affections and weep for friendships we long ago surrendered, then surely her premature death brings less grief than joy to Quintilia, whom you continue to cherish. <br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Poems_of_Catullus/y_HafujaJM4C?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22if%20those%20in%20their%20silent%22">C. Martin</a> (1979)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If anything from our grief, can reach beyond<br>
the mute grave, Calvus, and be pleasing and welcome,<br>
grief with which, in longing, we revive our lost loves,<br>
and weep for vanished friendships once known,<br>
surely Quintilia’s not so much sad for her early death,<br>
as joyful for your love.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/Catullus.php#anchor_Toc531846823:~:text=If%20anything%20from,for%20your%20love.">Kline</a> (2001), "Beyond The Grave: to Gaius Licinius Calvus"]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If anything pleasant or welcome, Calvus, can befall the mute sepulchre  in consequence of our grief, from the yearning with which we renew our ancient passions and weep for friendships long since cast away, surely it's not so much grief that's felt by Quintilia at her premature death , as joyfulness in your love.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Poems_of_Catullus/4qsYinaVXQ8C?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22If%20anything%20pleasant%20or%20welcome%22">Green</a> (2005)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If anything pleasing or acceptable to silent sepulchers<br>
<span class="tab">is able to be done by our grief, Calvus,<br>
by this longing we renew old loves<br>
<span class="tab">and we lament once sent away friendships.<br>
Certainly a premature death is not of such sadness<br>
<span class="tab">to Quintilia, so much as she rejoices in your love.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Translation:Catullus_96">Wikisource</a> (2018)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>If anything dear and welcome can happen in mute graves<br>
Because of our sadness, Calvus,<br>
Because of that longing by which we renew old loves<br>
And by which we weep for friendships formed long ago,<br>
Surely Quintilia isn’t saddened by her untimely death,<br>
But rather, she’s gladdened by your love.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://sententiaeantiquae.com/2022/04/02/catullus-a-lexicon/#:~:text=If%20anything%20dear%20and%20welcome%20can%20happen%20in%20mute%20graves%0ABecause%20of%20our%20sadness%2C%20Calvus%2C%0ABecause%20of%20that%20longing%20by%20which%20we%20renew%20old%20loves%0AAnd%20by%20which%20we%20weep%20for%20friendships%20formed%20long%20ago%2C%0ASurely%20Quintilia%20isn%E2%80%99t%20saddened%20by%20her%20untimely%20death%2C%0ABut%20rather%2C%20she%E2%80%99s%20gladdened%20by%20your%20love.">Benn</a> (2022)]</blockquote><br>						</span>
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		<title>Wilde, Oscar -- The Canterville Ghost, ch.  5 [The Ghost] (1887)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/wilde-oscar/73193/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 02 Dec 2024 23:28:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Wilde, Oscar]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[death]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[eternal rest]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grave]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[rest in peace]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at peace.]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at peace. </p>
<br><b>Oscar Wilde</b> (1854–1900) Irish poet, wit, dramatist<br><i>The Canterville Ghost</i>, ch.  5 [The Ghost] (1887) 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://archive.org/details/cu31924013571207/page/n105/mode/2up?q=%22soft+brown+earth%22" target="_blank">Source</a>)
				]]></content:encoded>
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                <!-- DCH Modify the title to give the category (quote author) at the beginning of it. -->
		<title>Gilder, R. W. -- &#8220;Drinking Song,&#8221; st. 2, Lyrics, and Other Poems (1885)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/gilder-r-w/68403/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 08 Apr 2024 16:46:46 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Gilder, R. W.]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[death]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[What if thou be saint or sinner, Crooked gray-beard, straight beginner, &#8212; Empty paunch, or jolly dinner, When Death thee shall call. All alike are rich and richer, King with crown, and cross-legged stitcher, When the grave hides all.]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>What if thou be saint or sinner,<br />
Crooked gray-beard, straight beginner, &#8212;<br />
Empty paunch, or jolly dinner,<br />
<span class="tab"><i>When Death thee shall call.</i><br />
All alike are rich and richer,<br />
King with crown, and cross-legged stitcher,<br />
<span class="tab"><i>When the grave hides all.</i></p>
<br><b>Richard Watson Gilder</b> (1844–1909) American poet and editor<br>&#8220;Drinking Song,&#8221; st. 2, <i>Lyrics, and Other Poems</i> (1885) 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/_/u5fkgvcGUjQC?hl=en&gbpv=1&pg=PA35&dq=%22Crooked+gray-beard,+straight+beginner%22" target="_blank">Source</a>)
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		<title>Martial -- Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 10, epigram  61 (10.61) (AD 95, 98 ed.) [tr. McLean (2014)]</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/martial/63833/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Oct 2023 06:19:33 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Martial]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Here rests Erotion&#8217;s all-too-hurried shade, dispatched in her sixth winter by Fate&#8217;s crime. Make yearly offerings to her tiny ghost, whoever rules this plot after my time. So may your home and household last for years with nothing but this stone to call for tears. [Hic festinata requiescit Erotion umbra, Crimine quam fati sexta peremit [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Here rests Erotion&#8217;s all-too-hurried shade,<br />
<span class="tab">dispatched in her sixth winter by Fate&#8217;s crime.<br />
Make yearly offerings to her tiny ghost,<br />
<span class="tab">whoever rules this plot after my time.<br />
So may your home and household last for years<br />
<span class="tab">with nothing but this stone to call for tears.</p>
<p><em>[Hic festinata requiescit Erotion umbra,<br />
Crimine quam fati sexta peremit hiems.<br />
Quisquis eris nostri post me regnator agelli,<br />
Manibus exiguis annus iusta dato:<br />
Sic lare perpetuo, sic turba sospite solus<br />
Flebilis in terra sit lapis iste tua.]</em></span></span></span></p>
<br><b>Martial</b> (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis]<br><i>Epigrams [Epigrammata]</i>, Book 10, epigram  61 (10.61) (AD 95, 98 ed.) [tr. McLean (2014)] 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://archive.org/details/selectedepigrams0000mart_b6d3/page/82/mode/2up?q=%22here+rests%22" target="_blank">Source</a>)
										<br><br><span class="cite">
						

See also his epitaph to Erotion at <a href="https://wist.info/martial/48119/">5.34</a>.<br><br>

(<a href="http://data.perseus.org/citations/urn:cts:latinLit:phi1294.phi002.perseus-lat1:10.61">Source (Latin)</a>). Other translations:<br><br>

<blockquote>In her sixth spring, behold Erotion laid:<br>
<span class="tab">If heaven we might arrain, an early shade.<br>
Bland successor, whoe'er shall rule this field,<br>
<span class="tab">To my blest shadeling annual honors yield.<br>
So may thy verdant vine perennial stand:<br>
<span class="tab">So may her teeming shoots o'erspred the land.<br>
So may'st thou never feel a tendrel tor'n:<br>
<span class="tab">And may this single stone in thy dominion mourn.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Epigrams_of_M_Val_Martial/vksOAAAAQAAJ?gbpv=1&bsq=%22behod%20erotion%22">Elphinston</a> (1782), Book 4, ep. 20]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Underneath this greedy stone,<br>
<span class="tab">Lies little sweet Erotion;<br>
Whom the fates, with hearts as cold,<br>
<span class="tab">Nipt away at six years old.<br>
Thou, whoever thou mast be,<br>
<span class="tab">That hast this small field after me,<br>
Let the yearly rites be paid<br>
<span class="tab">To her little slender shade;<br>
So shall no disease or jar<br>
<span class="tab">Hurt thy house, or chill thy Lar;<br>
But this tomb here be alone,<br>
<span class="tab">The only melancholy stone.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Epigrams_of_Martial_Englished_by_Divers/ZLDoDwAAQBAJ?gbpv=1&bsq=%22underneath%20this%20greedy%20stone%22">Hunt</a> (1819)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Here reposes Erotion in the shade of the tomb that too early closed around her, snatched away by relentless Fate in her sixth winter. Whoever you are that, after me, shall rule over these lands, render annual presents to her gentle shade. So, with undisturbed possession, so, with your family ever in health, may this stone be the only one of a mournful description on your domain.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.tertullian.org/fathers/martial_epigrams_book10.htm#:~:text=Here%20reposes%20Erotion,on%20your%20domain.">Bohn's Classical</a> (1859)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Here lies Erotion in the shade<br>
<span class="tab">Of foliage planted newly. <br>
In her sixth winter did she fade,<br>
<span class="tab">Cut off by fate unduly.<br>
Thou, whosoe'er thou be, to whom<br>
<span class="tab">Ere long these fields I render, <br>
The annual offerings at her tomb<br>
<span class="tab">Discharge; they are but slender.<br>
So, son succeeding sire, from thee <br>
<span class="tab">No victims death shall borrow:<br>
But on thy land this stone shall be <br>
<span class="tab">The only mark of sorrow.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/selectedepigrams00martrich/page/124/mode/2up?q=%22Here+lies+Erotion%22">Webb</a> (1879)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Here lies Erotion, whom at six years old<br>
<span class="tab">Fate pilfered. Stranger (when I too am cold<br>
Who shall succeed me in my rural field),<br>
<span class="tab">To this small spirit annual honours yield.<br>
Bright be thy hearth, hale be thy babes, I crave,<br>
<span class="tab">And this, in thy green farm, the only grave.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/martialinenglish00mart/page/262/mode/2up?q=%22here+lies+erotion%22">Stevenson</a> (1883)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Here in too early gloom rests Erotion whom, by crime of Fate, her sixth winter laid low. Whoe'er thou shalt be, the lord after me of my little field, to her tiny ghost pay thou year by year thy rites. So may they roof-tree continue, so thy household live unscathed, and in thy fields this gravestone alone call forth a tear!<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Epigrams/RIxiAAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22too%20early%20gloom%22">Ker</a> (1919)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Here sleeps the body of the little maid, <br>
<span class="tab">Erotion,<br>
Ere her sixth winter fate had called her shade <br>
<span class="tab">To hasten on;<br>
Whoe’er thou art who after me shall own <br>
<span class="tab">This tiny plot,<br>
Lay year by year the dues upon her stone; <br>
<span class="tab">Forget her not.<br>
So shall thy house endure nor suffering know, <br>
<span class="tab">And this remain<br>
The only sign and monument of woe <br>
<span class="tab">On thy domain.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/martialtwelveboo0000tran/page/318/mode/2up?q=%22EROTION%E2%80%99S+GRAVE%22">Pott & Wright</a> (1921)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Here lies Erotion at untimely date,<br>
<span class="tab">In his sixth year cut down by cruel fate.<br>
You, my successor in this little field,<br>
<span class="tab">To his poor ashes annual tribute yield.<br>
So prosper house and home, and on this land<br>
<span class="tab">No other monument of mourning stand.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Martial_s_Epigrams/g35fAAAAMAAJ?gbpv=1&bsq=%22here%20lies%20erotion%22">Francis & Tatum</a> (1924), ep. 556]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Here lies our Erotion<br>
<span class="tab">in the untimely shadow of a gravestone.<br>
Her sixth winter hurried her on<br>
<span class="tab">to an end that was destined.<br>
I address the future owner of this land,<br>
<span class="tab">and ask his yearly reverence, made<br>
to this slender shade:<br>
<span class="tab">May your household gods<br>
forever flourish and your whole household enjoy<br>
<span class="tab">a happy life --<br>
<span class="tab"><span class="tab">and may this single stone<br>
<span class="tab"><span class="tab">be the one place for grief<br>
<span class="tab"><span class="tab">on your land alone.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/epigramsofmartia0000mart_q2h6/page/164/mode/2up?q=erotion">Bovie</a> (1970)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Here, six years old, by Destiny's crime<br>
<span class="tab">Made a ghost before her time,<br>
Erotion lies. Whoever you be<br>
<span class="tab">Next lord of my small property,<br>
See that the due of death are paid<br>
<span class="tab">Annually to her slender shade:<br>
So may your hearth burn bright and strong,<br>
<span class="tab">Your household thrive, yourself live long,<br>
And this small stone, throughout the years,<br>
<span class="tab">Remain your only cause for tears.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/epigrams0000mart/page/128/mode/2up?q=%22erotion+lies%22">Michie</a> (1972)] </blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Here lies Erotion's hastened shade, whom by crime of Fate her sixth winter slew. Make annual offering to her tiny ghost, whoever after me shall be ruler of my plot of land. So may your home continue and your household live on and this stone be the only thing on your property to call for tears.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://dokumen.pub/martial-epigrams-books-6-10-2-0674995562-9780674995567.html">Shackleton Bailey</a> (1993)]</blockquote><br>



<blockquote>Here in premature gloom Erotion rests<br>
whose sixth winter now will last forever.<br>
<span class="tab">Whoever tends this small field after me,<br>
pay each year homage to her slender ghost:<br>
then you will prosper here and never<br>
<span class="tab">weep, except this stone bring her to memory.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/1996/1996.07.05/#:~:text=Here%20in%20premature%20gloom%20Erotion%20rests%0Awhose%20sixth%20winter%20now%20will%20last%20forever.%0AWhoever%20tends%20this%20small%20field%20after%20me%2C%0Apay%20each%20year%20homage%20to%20her%20slender%20ghost%3A%0Athen%20you%20will%20prosper%20here%20and%20never%0Aweep%2C%20except%20this%20stone%20bring%20her%20to%20memory.">Matthews</a> (1995)]</blockquote><br>



						</span>
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		<title>Spenser, Edmund -- The Faerie Queene, Book 1, Canto 9, st. 40 (1589-96)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/spenser-edmund/42359/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 06 Jul 2020 18:20:07 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Spenser, Edmund]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Is not short paine well borne, that brings long ease, And layes the soule to sleepe in quiet grave? Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas, Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please.]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Is not short paine well borne, that brings long ease,<br />
And layes the soule to sleepe in quiet grave?<br />
Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas,<br />
Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please.</p>
<br><b>Edmund Spenser</b> (c. 1552–1599) English poet<br><i>The Faerie Queene</i>, Book 1, Canto 9, st. 40 (1589-96) 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/15272/15272-h/15272-h.htm#:~:text=Is%20not%20short%20paine%20well%20borne%2C,death%20after%20life%20does%20greatly%20please." target="_blank">Source</a>)
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		<title>MacDonald, George -- David Elginbrod, ch. 13 (1863)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/macdonald-george/39921/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 06 Jan 2020 20:31:56 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[MacDonald, George]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[appeal]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Here lie I, Martin Elginbrodde: Hae mercy o&#8217; my soul, Lord God; As I wad do, were I Lord God, And ye were Martin Elginbrodde.]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Here lie I, Martin Elginbrodde:<br />
Hae mercy o&#8217; my soul, Lord God;<br />
As I wad do, were I Lord God,<br />
And ye were Martin Elginbrodde.</p>
<br><b>George MacDonald</b> (1824–1905) Scottish novelist, poet<br><i>David Elginbrod</i>, ch. 13 (1863) 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/David_Elginbrod/denupxY6iTUC?hl=en&gbpv=1&pg=PT94&printsec=frontcover&bsq=martin%20elginbrodde" target="_blank">Source</a>)
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		<title>Scalzi, John -- Old Man&#8217;s War (2005)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/scalzi-john/34879/</link>
		<comments>https://wist.info/scalzi-john/34879/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 24 Aug 2016 00:19:01 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[For as much as I hate the cemetery, I&#8217;ve been grateful it&#8217;s here, too. I miss my wife. It&#8217;s easier to miss her at a cemetery, where she&#8217;s never been anything but dead, than to miss her in all the places where she was alive.]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>For as much as I hate the cemetery, I&#8217;ve been grateful it&#8217;s here, too. I miss my wife. It&#8217;s easier to miss her at a cemetery, where she&#8217;s never been anything but dead, than to miss her in all the places where she was alive.</p>
<br><b>John Scalzi</b> (b. 1969) American writer<br><i>Old Man&#8217;s War</i> (2005) 
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		<title>Mencken, H. L. -- &#8220;Epitaph,&#8221; Smart Set (3 Dec 1921)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/mencken-hl/31011/</link>
		<comments>https://wist.info/mencken-hl/31011/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 13 Oct 2015 17:18:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[If, after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner and wink your eye at some homely girl.]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>If, after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner and wink your eye at some homely girl.<br />
<a href="https://wist.info/wp/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/H-L-Mencken-epitaph.jpg"><img fetchpriority="high" decoding="async" src="https://wist.info/wp/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/H-L-Mencken-epitaph.jpg" alt="H L Mencken - epitaph" width="605" height="330" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-31012" srcset="https://wist.info/wp/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/H-L-Mencken-epitaph.jpg 605w, https://wist.info/wp/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/H-L-Mencken-epitaph-300x164.jpg 300w" sizes="(max-width: 605px) 100vw, 605px" /></a></p>
<br><b>H. L. Mencken</b> (1880–1956) American writer and journalist [Henry Lewis Mencken]<br>&#8220;Epitaph,&#8221; <i>Smart Set</i> (3 Dec 1921) 
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		<title>Addison, Joseph -- Essay (1711-03-30), &#8220;Thoughts in Westminster Abbey,&#8221; The Spectator, No.  26</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/addison-joseph/6042/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jul 2008 10:08:44 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow; when I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions and debates of mankind.</p>
<br><b>Joseph Addison</b> (1672–1719) English essayist, poet, statesman<br>Essay (1711-03-30), &#8220;Thoughts in Westminster Abbey,&#8221; <i>The Spectator</i>, No.  26 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Westminster_Abbey_%28Addison%29#:~:text=When%20I%20look,debates%20of%20mankind." target="_blank">Source</a>)
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		<title>Hubbard, Elbert -- &#8220;The Philistine&#8221; (May 1907)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/hubbard-elbert-green/368/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Feb 2004 16:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[The graveyards are full of people the world could not do without.Sometimes misquoted as: &#8220;The graveyards are full of indispensable men&#8221; &#8220;The cemeteries are full of indispensable men.&#8221; &#8220;The cemeteries are filled with people who thought the world could not get along without them.&#8221; Also attributed to Charles DeGaulle, Georges Clemenceau, and many others. More [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The graveyards are full of people the world could not do without.</p>
<br><b>Elbert Hubbard</b> (1856–1915) American writer, businessman, philosopher<br>&#8220;The Philistine&#8221; (May 1907) 
									<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=b0kLAQAAIAAJ&amp;q=graveyards#v=snippet&amp;q=graveyards&amp;f=false" target="_blank">Source</a>)
										<br><br><span class="cite">
						Sometimes misquoted as:
<ul>
 	<li>"The graveyards are full of indispensable men"</li>
 	<li>"The cemeteries are full of indispensable men."</li>
 	<li>"The cemeteries are filled with people who thought the world could not get along without them."</li>
</ul>
Also attributed to Charles DeGaulle, Georges Clemenceau, and many others. More discussion: <a href="https://quoteinvestigator.com/2011/11/21/graveyards-full/">The Graveyards Are Full of Indispensable Men – Quote Investigator</a>.						</span>
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