All must be left: thy gentle wife,
Thy home, the joys of rural life;
And when thy fleeting days are gone,
Th’ ill-omened cypresses alone
Of all those fondly-cherished trees
Shall grace thy funeral obsequies,
Cling to thy loved remains, and wave
Their mournful shadows o’er thy grave.
A lavish but a nobler heir
Thy hoarded Cæcuban shall share,