FRAGMENT FROM THE “LAMENT FOR BION,” OF MOSCHUS

RAISE high, Sicilian Muses, Raise high the mournful cry, The mallows in the woodlands Whene’er they fade and die, And the dill, and the green parsley, When they grow wan and sere, Live on again, though dead a while, And flower another year. But we, the great, the noble men, The mighty, and the wise, Whene’er our term of life is past, And our frail body dies, Lie down for ever, evermore Beneath earth’s hollow deep, And undisturbed for ever Lie low in death’s long sleep.