Which once a-day with his embossed froth
The turbulent surge shall cover.—Thither come,
And let my grave-stone be your oracle.’
And again, Alcibiades, after reading his epitaph, says of him,
‘These well express in thee thy latter spirits:
Though thou abhorred’st in us our human griefs,
Scorn’d’st our brain’s flow, and those our droplets, which
From niggard nature fall; yet rich conceit
Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye
On thy low grave’——