Stolberg died December 5, 1819, at the age of seventy, at Sondermühlen, a country-house for which he had, four years before, exchanged his favorite Lütjenbeck, when French domination was in the ascendant and he had become an object of suspicion to the French spies in Münster.
What his death was to his family can be easily imagined; it was hardly less to a large circle of friends, acquaintances, and even strangers who knew him only by name and by his works, but whose reliance on his advice, example, and opinion had long been their best and surest standard of duty.
FROM THE HECUBA OF EURIPIDES.
A free translation.
BY AUBREY DE VERE.
[The Chorus of Trojan Women lament their Captivity.]
STROPHE I.
Breeze of the ocean, fresh and free!
Whither, O whither wilt thou bear
The Exile, and her great despair?
Thou speed’st, and I must speed with thee!
Say, must some Dorian haven be