“Maidae marmorea dormis, sub imagine
Maida,
Ad januam domini; sit tibi terra levis.”
Or, if you don’t want the trouble of translating it, Master Freddy, I would do it thus:—
“At thy lord’s door, in slumbers light and blest,
Maida, beneath this marble Maida rest.
Light lie the turf upon thy gentle breast.”
Washington Irving says that in one of his morning rambles he came upon a curious old Gothic monument, on which was inscribed in Gothic characters,
“Cy git le preux Percy,”
(Here lies the brave Percy,)
and asking Scott what it was, he replied, “O, only one of my fooleries,”—and afterwards Irving found it was the grave of a favorite greyhound.