GEORGE M. DAVIE
Reading edition
George Montgomery Davie, a verse-maker of cleverness and charm, was born near Hopkinsville, Kentucky, March 16, 1848. He began his collegiate career at Centre College, Danville, Kentucky, but he later went to Princeton, from which institution he was graduated in 1868. Two years later he established himself as a lawyer at Louisville. Davie rose rapidly in his profession, and he was soon recognized as one of the ablest lawyers in Kentucky. Though busy with his practice, he found time to write verse and short prose papers for periodicals that were appreciated by many persons. Davie was a Latinist of decided ability, and he often employed himself in turning the odes of Horace into English. His original work, however, is very charming and clever, a smile being concealed in almost every line he wrote, though it is a very quiet and dignified smile, never boisterous. He was one of the founders of the now celebrated Filson Club, of Louisville. He died at New York, February 22, 1900, but he sleeps to-day in Louisville's beautiful Cave Hill cemetery. Verses (Louisville, Kentucky, n. d.), a broadside, contains Davie's best original poems and translations and it is a very scarce item at this time.
Bibliography. The Courier-Journal (February 23, 1900); Kentucky Eloquence (Louisville, 1907).
"FRATER, AVE ATQUE VALE!"
(Catullus, Car. CI.)
[From Verses (Louisville, Kentucky, n. d.)]
Through many nations, over many seas, Brother, I come to thy sad obsequies: To bring the last gifts for the dead to thee, And speak to thy mute ashes—left to me By the hard fate, that on a cruel day, From me, dear brother, called Thyself away. Receive these gifts, wet with fraternal tears; And the last rites, that custom old endears; These fond memorials would my sorrow tell— Brother! forever, hail thee—and farewell!
HADRIAN, DYING, TO HIS SOUL
[From the same]
Animula vagula blandula, Hospes comesque corporis, Quae nunc abibis in loca, Pallidula rigida nudula; Nec, ut soles, dabis jocos? Thou sprite! so charming, uncontrolled, Guest and companion of my clay, Into what places wilt thou stray, When thou art naked, pale, and cold? Wilt then make merry—as of old?