Tu depositum tege corpus,
  non inmemor illa requiret
  sua munera fictor et auctor 135
  propriique aenigmata vultus.

    Veniant modo tempora iusta,
  cum spem Deus inpleat omnem;
  reddas patefacta necesse est,
  qualem tibi trado figuram. 140

    Non, si cariosa vetustas
  dissolverit ossa favillis,
  fueritque cinisculus arens
  minimi mensura pugilli.

    Nec, si vaga flamina et aurae 145
  vacuum per inane volantes
  tulerint cum pulvere nervos,
  hominem periisse licebit.

    Sed dum resolubile corpus
  revocas, Deus, atque reformas, 150
  quanam regione iubebis
  animam requiescere puram?

    Gremio senis addita sancti
  recubabit, ut est Eleazar,
  quem floribus undique septum 155
  Dives procul adspicit ardens.

    Sequimur tua dicta redemptor,
  quibus atra morte triumphans
  tua per vestigia mandas
  socium crucis ire latronem. 160

    Patet ecce fidelibus ampli
  via lucida iam paradisi,
  licet et nemus illud adire,
  homini quod ademerat anguis.

    Illic precor, optime ductor, 165
  famulam tibi praecipe mentem
  genitali in sede sacrari,
  quam liquerat exul et errans.

  Nos tecta fovebimus ossa

violis et fronde frequenti, 170
titulumque et frigida saxa
liquido spargemus odore.

X. Hymn for the burial of the dead

Fountain of life, supernal Fire,
Who didst unite in wondrous wise
The soul that lives, the clay that dies,
And mad’st them Man:  eternal Sire,

Both elements Thy will obey,
Thine is the bond that joins the twain,
And, while united they remain,
Spirit and body own Thy sway.

  Yet they must one day disunite,
    Sunder in death this mortal frame;
    Dust to the dust from whence it came,
  The spirit to its heavenward flight.

  For all created things must wane,
    And age must break the bond at last;
    The diverse web that Life held fast
  Death’s fingers shall unweave again.

  Yet, gracious God, Thou dost devise
    The death of Death for all Thine own;
    The path of safety Thou hast shown
  Whereby the doomed limbs may rise: 

  So that, while fragile bonds of earth
    Man’s noblest essence still enfold,
    That part may yet the sceptre hold
  Which from pure aether hath its birth.

  For if the earthy will hold sway,
    By gross desires and aims possessed,
    The soul, too, by the weight oppressed,
  Follows the body’s downward way.

  But if she scorn the guilt that mars—­
    Still mindful of her fiery sphere—­
    She bears the flesh, her comrade here,
  Back to her home beyond the stars.

  The lifeless body we restore
    To earth, must slumber free from pain
    A little while, that it may gain
  The spirit’s fellowship once more.