3; Richard Garnett, 1864; Sir Edwin Arnold, 1869; John
Addington Symonds, 1873; J.W. Mackail, 1890; Lilla Cabot Perry, 1891. A
collection of selected translations edited by Graham R. Tomson was
published in 1889. Of these partial versions, the only one which
approaches the incommunicable charm of the original is Mr. Mackail's, an
incomparable translation. His versions are freely used in the selections
which follow. All the metrical versions, except those by Mrs. Perry, are
from Miss Tomson's collection. But no translation equals the sanity, the
brevity, the clarity of the Greek original, qualities which have made
these epigrams consummate models of style to the modern world. In all
the round of literature, the only exact analogue of the Greek epigram is
the Japanese "ode," with its thirty syllables, its single idea, and its
constant use of all classes as an universal medium of familiar poetic
expression. Of like nature, used alike for epigraph, epitaph, and
familiar personal expression, is the rhymed Arabic Makotta, brief poems
written in one form for eighteen hundred years, and still written.

[Signature: TALCOTT WILLIAMS]

ON THE ATHENIAN DEAD AT PLATAEA

SIMONIDES (556-467 B.C.)

If to die nobly is the chief part of excellence, to us out of all men
Fortune gave this lot; for hastening to set a crown of freedom on
Greece, we lie possessed of praise that grows not old.

Translation of J.W. Mackail.

ON THE LACEDAEMONIAN DEAD AT PLATAEA

SIMONIDES

These men, having set a crown of imperishable glory on their own land,
were folded in the dark clouds of death; yet being dead they have not
died, since from on high their excellence raises them gloriously out of
the house of Hades.

Translation of J.W. Mackail.

ON A SLEEPING SATYR

PLATO (429-347 B. C.)

This satyr Diodorus engraved not, but laid to rest; your touch will wake
him; the silver is asleep.

Translation of J.W. Mackail.

A POET'S EPITAPH

SIMMIAS OF THEBES (405 B.C.)

Quietly, o'er the tomb of Sophocles,
Quietly, ivy, creep with tendrils green;
And roses, ope your petals everywhere,
While dewy shoots of grape-vine peep between,
Upon the wise and honeyed poet's grave,
Whom Muse and Grace their richest treasures gave.

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