The wretch, concentred all in self,Living, shall forfeit fair renown,And, doubly dying, shall go downTo the vile dust, from whence he sprung,Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.

Fight on, brave knights! Man dies, but glory lives! Fight on; death is better than defeat! Fight on brave knights! for bright eyes behold your deeds!

A large stone was then lowered down on the grave, and covered the moderate space now sufficient for the man for whom Europe was once too little.

Like the dew on the mountain, like the foam on the river, like the bubble on the fountain, thou art gone, and for ever!