Quae videt in te volgus egent nullius, eisque Fingere mens nihilum pulchrius ulla potest. Haec tibi per cunctas concessa est gloria linguas, Dictaque verum intra, laudat ut hostis homo. Externam speciem sic laus externa coronat; Haec tamen ora ipsis dissona multa crepant; Quodque dabant laudis conturbant omne, videndo Vlterius quam se fert oculata fides.
Sitne tibi inquirunt animi par candor, et illud Noscitur ex actis coniciturve tuis; Blandaque dum facies illis, mens invida secum Foetorem lolii flos,' ait, ‘iste refert.'
At lolium si flos oleat, causam esse putarim Hanc ego: communi creverat ille loco.
Non quia culparis meruisse videbere, livor Egregium telo destinat omne suo.
Gloria pulchrorum est suspectos esse malignis, In liquido cornix aethere multa volat. Sis bonus, eniteat tua quoque in crimine virtus Clarior, ex ipso tempore nacta fidem. Primitiae florum mordaci a peste petuntur, At tua dedecoris pura iuventa nitet. Insidias iuveni structas aut effugis omnis Integer, aut victor, si peterere malo. Laus datur, at linguas frenat non illa malignas, Haec tibi in aeternum libera pestis aget. Si speciem obtegeret nullam tibi livida fama, Tu regeres unus pectora cuncta virûm.
No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe. O, if, I say, you look upon this verse When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse, But let your love even with my life decay; Lest the wise world should look into your moan And mock you with me after I am gone.
O, lest the world should task you to recite What merit lived in me that you should love, After my death, dear love, forget me quite, For you in me can nothing worthy prove; Unless you would devise some virtuous lie, To do more for me than mine own desert, And hang more praise upon deceased I Than niggard truth would willingly impart: O, lest your true love may seem false in this, That you for love speak well of me untrue, My name be buried where my body is, And live no more to shame nor me nor you.
For I am shamed by that which I bring forth, And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
Flere mihi nolis quando, dilecte, supremum Raucus campanae planxerit ille sonus, Nuntius ille sonus fugisse haec tristia vitae Me semel, ac vermes inter habere locum. Quin etiam releges si forte haec verba, recuses Quaenam ea panxisset vel meminisse manus; Tantus amor meus est ut labi malit ab isto
Pectore, quam memorem te doluisse mei. O, inquam, versum hunc si tum fortasse videbis Quando ego communi pulvere mixtus ero, Nomen rite meum labris committere noli; Fac potius mecum sit tumulatus amor. Ne sapiens possit causam scrutatus habere Ludibrio lacrimas ob mea fata tuas.
O grave ne quondam ducas recitasse petenti Quid meritum in me sit post mea fata coli; Post mea fata meum, care, obliviscere nomen, Nil habeas in me namque docere boni. Ni pietas ausit mendacia fingere quaedam Plus mihi pro meritis auxiliata meis, Possit ut id laudis cumulari in morte peremptum Quod nequeat vivo reddere vera fides.
O tua ne pietas fallax habeatur in isto,
Optima quod de me, ficta sed illa, canas,
Fac tumulatum una mihi sit cum corpore nomen, Neve superfuerit tantus utrique rubor.
Nam rubor est mihimet nihilo dignanda creanti, Ac pariter tibi sit, si leviora colas.
That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
But be contented: when that fell arrest Without all bail shall carry me away,
My life hath in this line some interest, Which for memorial still with thee shall stay. When thou reviewest this, thou dost review The very part was consecrate to thee:
The earth can have but earth, which is his due; My spirit is thine, the better part of me: So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life, The prey of worms, my body, being dead, The coward conquest of a wretch's knife, Too base of thee to be remembered.
The worth of that is that which it contains, And that is this, and this with thee remains.
In me, care, potes velut anni noscere tempus Lutea cum pendens arbore rara coma est, Vel potius cum nulla, at frigore nuda tremiscunt Bracchia, nuper avis templa canora sono. Tale meae videas lumen pallere diei
Pallet ad occiduas vespere quale plagas; Quod nox furva brevi totum, mors altera, tollit Omniaque obsignans inde secuta quies. Dispicias in me tantum vitale caloris
In cinere est quantum relliquiisque foci, Qua rubet exiguo languescens igne favilla Ab nutrimentis interitura suis.
Illa vides, et amas auctis affectibus omne Vnde recedendum post breve tempus erit.
At sis contentus, cum vis horrenda, vadari Nescia, me saeva prenderit illa manu, Nonnihil in versu hoc linquam vitale, quod una Cum numeris habeas usque, meique memor. Tuque recensebis simul his unum illud, amice, Quod tibi devovi seposuique sacrum; Fas cinis ad cinerem redeat, set spiritus ipse Est tuus, interior pars meliorque mei. Inde puta ereptum vitae modo vile putamen, Cum mihi mortale hoc, vermibus esca, cadit; Id cadit ignavus potuit quod vincere culter, Tam miserae nolis tu meminisse rei. Eius enim valuit modo quod vitale latebat Intus, in his autem versibus illud habes.
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