Epitaphs III. O Thou Who Movest Onward With A Mind

"O Thou who movest onward with a mind" Intent upon thy way, pause, though in haste! 'Twill be no fruitless moment. I was born Within Savona's walls, of gentle blood. On Tiber's banks my youth was dedicate To sacred studies; and the Roman Shepherd Gave to my charge Urbino's numerous flock. Well did I watch, much laboured, nor had power To escape from many and strange indignities; Was smitten by the great ones of the world, But did not fall; for Virtue braves all shocks, Upon herself resting immoveably. Me did a kindlier fortune then invite To serve the glorious Henry, King of France, And in his hands I saw a high reward Stretched out for my acceptance,—but Death came. Now, Reader, learn from this my fate, how false, How treacherous to her promise, is the world; And trust in God—to whose eternal doom Must bend the sceptred Potentates of earth.