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Non Omnis Moriar (1937)

(Translation from Horace)

(I shall not die entirely)

Cleaving clinging rock I carved a monument,
Sky grazing grandeur of the pyramid it humbles.
Gnawing rains, nor wearing winds, nor centuries
Death's legions plodding endlessly could crumble.
Death shall leave me life, for portions funeral
Flames fold entwining, yet a part shall be eternal.
Fame renewed, increased, endures rejuvenate.
High priests in silence with the virgins to paternal
Jove proceed; while men as coursing cataracts
Praise fling to one who far excels in art, in weaving
Words melodic, like the lowly Daunian
Ruled rustic tribes, then rose to realms majestic cleaving
Lasting lyrics. Noble muse of Delphica
Take pride deserved in me thy son and twine with laurel
Wreaths my hair. (Horace lives eternally.)

The best way to be a pastor is not to be one.

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