Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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EPITAPHS

IX

          PAUSE, courteous Spirit!--Balbi supplicates
          That Thou, with no reluctant voice, for him
          Here laid in mortal darkness, wouldst prefer
          A prayer to the Redeemer of the world.
          This to the dead by sacred right belongs;
          All else is nothing.--Did occasion suit
          To tell his worth, the marble of this tomb
          Would ill suffice: for Plato's lore sublime,
          And all the wisdom of the Stagyrite,
          Enriched and beautified his studious mind:                  10
          With Archimedes also he conversed
          As with a chosen friend, nor did he leave
          Those laureat wreaths ungathered which the Nymphs
          Twine near their loved Permessus.--Finally,
          Himself above each lower thought uplifting,
          His ears he closed to listen to the songs
          Which Sion's Kings did consecrate of old;
          And his Permessus found on Lebanon.
          A blessed Man! who of protracted days
          Made not, as thousands do, a vulgar sleep;                  20
          But truly did 'He' live his life. Urbino,
          Take pride in him!--O Passenger, farewell!


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