 | The Ingoldsby Lyrics |  |
265
Epitaph on Myself
[_]
To the Editor of “The Globe and Traveller.”
Sir,—I enclose you a small specimen of auto-epitaph-ography
which, as a “puer ingenui vultus ingenuique pudoris,” I fear
the partiality of my friends, who may conceive the memorial
inadequate to my merits, may hereafter be tempted to suppress.
I prefer, therefore, seeing it in my lifetime, and am
Yours for the nonce,
Modestus.
[_]
To the Editor of “The Globe and Traveller.” Sir,—I enclose you a small specimen of auto-epitaph-ography which, as a “puer ingenui vultus ingenuique pudoris,” I fear the partiality of my friends, who may conceive the memorial inadequate to my merits, may hereafter be tempted to suppress. I prefer, therefore, seeing it in my lifetime, and am Yours for the nonce, Modestus.
Traveller, pause!—the gentle youth
Whose honour'd ashes rest below,
Had wisdom, virtue, valour, truth,
And all a patriot's fervent glow.
Whose honour'd ashes rest below,
Had wisdom, virtue, valour, truth,
And all a patriot's fervent glow.
A form so fine, so pure a mind,
Earth ne'er again may hope to see;
He moved, in short, a thing design'd
To show men what a man should be.
Earth ne'er again may hope to see;
He moved, in short, a thing design'd
To show men what a man should be.
Trav'ler, pass—nor vainly scan
Fate's dark decree, which hence withdrew
So wise, so good, so great a man,
And left so sad a scamp as you.
Fate's dark decree, which hence withdrew
So wise, so good, so great a man,
And left so sad a scamp as you.
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