Thee, whose refulgent staff and summons clear, <br />Minerva's flock longtime was wont t'obey, <br />Although thyself an herald, famous here, <br />The last of heralds, Death, has snatch'd away. <br />He calls on all alike, nor even deigns <br />To spare the office that himself sustains. <br /> <br />Thy locks were whiter than the plumes display'd <br />By Leda's paramour in ancient time, <br />But thou wast worthy ne'er to have decay'd, <br />Or, Aeson-like, to know a second prime, <br />Worthy for whom some Goddess should have won <br />New life, oft kneeling to Apollo's son. <br /> <br />Commission'd to convene with hasty call <br />The gowned tribes, how graceful wouldst thou stand! <br />So stood Cyllenius erst in Priam's hall, <br />Wing-footed messenger of Jove's command, <br />And so, Eurybates when he address'd <br />To Peleus' son Atrides' proud behest. <br /> <br />Dread Queen of sepulchres! whose rig'rous laws <br />And watchful eyes, run through the realms below, <br />Oh, oft too adverse to Minerva's cause, <br />Too often to the Muse not less a foe, <br />Chose meaner marks, and with more equal aim <br />Pierce useless drones, earth's burthen and its shame! <br /> <br />Flow, therefore, tears for Him from ev'ry eye, <br />All ye disciples of the Muses, weep! <br />Assembling, all, in robes of sable dye, <br />Around his bier, lament his endless sleep, <br />And let complaining Elegy rehearse <br />In every School her sweetest saddest verse.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/elegy-ii-on-the-death-of-the-university-beadle-at-cambridge-translated-from-milton/
