University of Virginia Library

HORACE, Book III. Ode 30, Paraphras'd:

The Latin of which was set to Musick, and sung at Mr. Dryden's Funerals before the Herse, 1700.

I've rais'd a Monument, by far
More strong and durable than Brass,
The sculptur'd Trophy of accomplish'd War:
Not Ægypt's Pyramids shall this surpass,
Tho' gaining on th'insulted Skies,
Their lofty Heads magnificently rise:
Not beating Show'rs tempestuous Force,
Nor, sweeping wide a wasteful Course,
Th'impetuous North this Fabrick shall deface;
Nor wearing Years revolving Race,
Nor Time's incessant Flux decay,
Or down its Deluge bear the stedfast Frame away!
I shall not, all extinguish'd, wholly dye,
My better Part will Death defy;
And freshly my increasing Fame survive
The fun'ral Pomps, and eminently live.
Their Praise ev'n late Posterity shall pay,
Who wait, unborn, their coming Day:
And while the Priests Religious Train
Their venerable Rites maintain,
And Rivers to their Parent Ocean glide,
And render back the borrow'd Tide,
My honour'd Name shall be renown'd;
Who, sweetly, from my tuneful Store,
Unlock'd harmonious Lays, unknown before,
And Verse with all the Charms of Cadence crown'd.
Advance, my Muse, and boldly claim
The merited Reward of Fame:
Let thy own Hand adorn my Brows
With fadeless Honours of Phœbæan Boughs.