THE ^SHRINES OF ATTICA 137

Symphony of Beethoven, over the solemn fateful
rhythm of death:

'A(TT?]p irplv fiev eXafnres ivl ^wolaiv 'Ewo?,
vvv Be Oavwv A.a/X7r«? cE(X7re/30? ev $>8i[xevoi<;.

" Morning Star, that once didst shine among the
living; dying, thou shinest now the Evening Star
among the dead."

No sweeter flowers of literature have been gathered
than those which have bloomed on Greek graves.
Their fragrant affection is often a tribute more to the
joy of life than to the sorrow of death.

" Find no fault as thou passest by my monument,
O wayfarer; not even in death have I aught worthy
of lamentation. I have left children's children; I had
joy of one wife, who grew old along with me; I made
marriage for three sons whose sons I often lulled
asleep on my breast, and never moaned over the
sickness or the death of any: who, shedding tears
without sorrow over me, sent me to slumber the
sweet sleep in the country of the holy." 1

1 Epitaph by Carphyllides, Macail's translation.