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How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none read more
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love.
Like beauteous flowers which vainly waste their scent
Of odours in unhaunted deserts.
Like beauteous flowers which vainly waste their scent
Of odours in unhaunted deserts.
Darkness is to space what silence is to sound, i.e., the interval.
Darkness is to space what silence is to sound, i.e., the interval.
He who has lived obscurely and quietly has lived well.
[Lat., Bene qui latuit, bene vixit.]
He who has lived obscurely and quietly has lived well.
[Lat., Bene qui latuit, bene vixit.]
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Some write their wrongs in marble: he more just,
Stoop'd down serene and wrote them on the dust,
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Some write their wrongs in marble: he more just,
Stoop'd down serene and wrote them on the dust,
Trod under foot, the sport of every wind,
Swept from the earth and blotted from his mind,
There, secret in the grave, he bade them lie,
And grieved they could not 'scape the Almighty eye.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not read more
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
