ANONYMOUS MODERN EPIGRAMS. EPITAPH ON FAIR ROSAMUND. Rose of the world, not rose the fresh, pure flow'r, This is the well-known monkish epitaph in the nunnery at Godstow. "In Corio's History of Milan' it is stated to have been first placed on the tomb of Rosamunda, Queen of the Lombards, who died in the sixth century" ("Notes and Queries," 2nd S. X. 88). Two stanzas in Warner's "Albion's England," on Queen Eleanor's discovery of Rosamund's bower, and treatment of her, are interesting in connection with the epitaph. The first is singularly beautiful (chap. 41): With that she dasht her on the lippes, So dyed them doubly red: Hard was the heart that gave the blow, Thus did faire Rose (no longer rose And soone her wrong did right. LINES FOUND BY MICHAEL ANGELO ON THE PEDESTAL OF HIS STATUE OF “NIGHT” Translated from the Italian by Bland, in " Collections from the Greek Anthology," 1813, 407. Night in this lovely posture you behold: An angel's art to rugged marble gives This slumbering form. Because she sleeps, she lives. Doubt you? Then wake her; by herself be told. Michael Angelo thus answered for the goddess (translated by Bland): Grateful is sleep-but more to be of stone, While guilt and shame upon the earth appear. Then wake me not-I fain would slumber on. The lines found by Michael Angelo on the pedestal of his statue are attributed to Giovanni Strozzi. GALLATÈA.—BATTUS. ("The Mastive, or Young-Whelpe of the Olde-Dogge. Epigrams and Satyrs." By H. P.) Vera Filia Patris. Why strives young Gallatèa for the wall? If needs you'll know the cause (quoth one) you shall : It makes her ladyship lean much that way. Ebrius Dissimulans. Battus (though bound from drinking wine of late) He will not drink, and yet be drunk ere noon, The volume from which these epigrams are taken is ascribed by some to Henry Parrot; but this is, probably, a mistake, as the epigrams are very different in style, and very inferior in wit, to those in "Laquei Ridiculosi" by that author. Others, with better reason, ascribe it to Henry Peacham, the author of " The Compleat Gentleman." ON THE GRAVESTONE OF SHAKESPEARE, IN (Malone's "Shakespeare," 1821, II. 506.) Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbear Bless'd be the man that spares these stones, Similar execrations are found in many ancient Latin epitaphs; and it is probable that such lines were common in Shakespeare's time. They are supposed to allude to the custom of removing skeletons after a certain period, and depositing them in charnel-houses. There is no reason to believe that Shakespeare wrote the lines himself. They were probably placed on his gravestone by those who had the care of his funeral. A correspondent of "Notes and Queries," (3rd S. II. 164), states that he found a similar inscription in Wimbledon Churchyard, on a tomb of the date of 1817. EPITAPH ON THE WIFE OF SIR COPE D'OYLY. 1618. (Burke's "Extinct Baronetage.") Would'st thou (Reader) draw to life Read on, and then redeem from shame, This dust was once in spirit a Jael, Rebecca in grace, in heart an Abigail, In works a Dorcas, to the Church a Hannah, Prudently simple, providently warie, To the world a Martha, and to Heaven a Marie. In "Wit Restored," 1658, ed. 1817, II. 233, there is a quaint epitaph of similar character on a matron: Here lies a wife was chaste, a mother blest; A modest matron, all these in one chest: Martha to men whilst here she had abode. In the "Gentleman's Magazine," LXXX. Part II. 527, an epitaph of similar character at Grays, in Essex, is given: Behold the silent grave; it doth embrace EPITAPH ON WILLIAM WHEATLY. (Wood's "Athens Oxonienses," ed. 1813, II. 639.) The conceits of the writers known as the Metaphysical Poets, of whom Dr. Johnson, in his "Life of Cowley," has given a masterly account, were sometimes carried to an extent which might appear almost incredible. An example is exhibited in an epitaph in the churchyard of Banbury over the grave of William Whatelie, or Wheatly, the vicar, a man of much learning, who died in 1639: Whatsoe'er thou'lt say who passest by, Why? here's enshrin'd celestial dust; His bones, whose name and fame can't die, Who swam to's tomb in 's people's eyes. There is a Latin distich of a period a little earlier, by Bernardus Bauhusius, on the death of Lipsius, in which the conceit by which grief is expressed is almost as singular. The translation, by James Wright, is of a date but little later (“Delitiæ Delitiarum," 204): Some in rich Parian stone, in ivory And marble some, Lipsius in tears doth lie. In "A Farther Discourse on Epitaphs," by Camden, in Hearne's "Collection of Curious Discourses," an epigram is preserved "On the Removal of Queen Elizabeth's Body from Richmond to Whitehall by Water": The Queen was brought by water to Whitehall, More clung about the barge, fish under water Wept out their eyes of pearl, and swom blind after. I think the bargemen might with easier thighs, Have rowed her thither in her people's eyes. For howsoe'er, thus much my thoughts have scann'd, Sh ad come by water, had she come by land. Camden calls this "doleful"; Horace Walpole says it is "a most perfect example of the bathos." HUGO GROTIUS, When confined in the fortress of Loevestein on suspicion of favouring the Arminians, obtained permission to borrow books, which came in and were returned in chests. His wife enabled him to effect his escape by concealing him in one of these chests, supposed by the guards to contain books. The following epigram was made on the event. It is translated from the Latin in Selections from the French Anas," 1797, II. 17: This chest, which to its master did convey Owen addressed a Latin epigram "To Roger Owen, a learned Knight" (Book IV. 245), which Harvey thus translates: Thou know'st the Britons' laws, their old, new rites, And all that their whole history recites: In thy discourse, thou'rt so profoundly read, A living library seems in thine head. Cowper, in the second of his odes "On the burning of Lord Mansfield's Library," rejoices in the care which preserved "his sacred head from harm," and adds: There Memory, like the bee that's f-” From Flora's balmy store, The quintessence of all he read ON A GARDENER. ("Wit Restored," published 1658. Reprinted 1817, II. 232.) Could he forget his death that every hour Unhappily, it is too commonly the case that those who are emblemed to" death are the very persons who think the least of their own end. The callousness which is bred by habit is inimitably drawn out by Shakespeare in the grave-diggers' scene in "Hamlet," where the singing of the one clown and the play of wit of both, is only interrupted by the order of the one to the other, "Go, get thee to Yaughan, and fetch me a stoup of liquor." COLONEL JOHN LILBURN, Born in 1618, was called, says Granger, "Freeborn John," and was the most hardened and refractory of all the seditious libellers of the time. He was, moreover, of such a quarrelsome disposition, that it was appositely said of him, Wood tells us, "that, if there was none living but he, John would be against Lilburn, and Lilburn against John." This saying was probably the origin of the following epigram on his death, which is found in Grey's notes to Butler's "Hudibras," ed. 1806, II. 271; and in other places: Is John departed, and is Lilburn gone? |