E’en brass by lapse of time doth old become,
But there is no such time as shall efface
Your lasting glory, wise Diogenes;
Since you alone did teach to men the art
Of a contented life: the surest path
To glory and a lasting happiness.
We ourselves have also written an epigram on him in the proceleusmatic metre.
A. Tell me, Diogenes, tell me true, I pray,
How did you die; what fate to Pluto bore you?
B. The savage bite of an envious dog did kill me.