Non operosa peto titulos mihi marmora ponant, Nostra sed accipiat fictilis ossa cadus; Exceptet gremio quæ mox placidissima tellus, Immites possint ne nocuisse feræ. Rivulus hæc circum dissectus obambulet, unda Clivoso qualis tramite ducta sonat; Exiguis stet cæsa notis super ossa sepulta, Nomen et his servet parva tabella meum: Hic jacet ante annos crudeli tabe peremptus Molsa; ter injecto pulvere, pastor, abi. Forsitan in putrem longo post tempore glebam Vertar, et hæc flores induet urna novos; Populus aut potius abruptis artubus alba Formosâ exsurgam conspicienda comâ. Scilicet huc diti pecoris comitata magistro Conveniet festo pulchra puella die; Quæ molles ductet choreas, et veste recinctâ Ad certos nôrit membra movere modos.[474] [Footnote 473: _Poemata Selecta_, pp. 203-206. An elegy written by Janus Etruscus, Pope's _Poemata Italorum_, vol. ii. p. 25, on a similar theme, though very inferior to Molsa's, may be compared with it.] [Footnote 474: 'I ask for no monument of wrought marble to proclaim my titles: let a vase of baked clay receive these bones. Let earth, quietest of resting-places, take them to herself, and save them from the injury of ravening wolves. And let a running stream divide its waters round my grave, drawn with the sound of music from a mountain-flank. A little tablet carved with simple letters will be enough to mark the spot, and to preserve my name: "Here lies Molsa, slain before his day by wasting sickness: cast dust upon him thrice, and go thy way, gentle shepherd." It may be that after many years I shall turn to yielding clay, and my tomb shall deck herself with flowers; or, better, from my limbs shall spring a white poplar, and in its beauteous foliage I shall rise into the light of heaven. To this place will come, I hope, some lovely maid attended by the master of the flock; and she shall dance above my bones and move her feet to rhythmic music.'] The Paganism of the Renaissance, exchanging Christian rites for old mythologies, and classic in the very tomb, has rarely found sweeter expression than in this death song. We trace in it besides a note of modern feeling, the romantic sense of community with nature in the immortality of trees and flowers.[475] [Footnote 475: For the picture of the girl dancing on the lover's grave, cf. Omar Khayyam. Cf. too Walt Whitman's metaphor for grass--'the beautiful uncut hair of graves.']