I've built a monument to outlast
Statues of bronze, and tower more vast
Than pyramids by monarchs piled.
Nor wasting rain, nor fury wild
Of restless north wind to decay
Can bring it, nor the long array
Of years untold and ages' flight.
Not all of me shall death have right
To take: great part the funeral flame
Will 'scape. Aye fresh will be my fame,
And in the praise of after times
Aye growing, while the Pontiff climbs
The Capitol with Vestal mute.
Posterity shall me repute
As one who, born where sounds the roar
Of Aufidus, where ruled of yore
Daunus, of rustic tribes the king,
A region poor in stream and spring,
To greatness rose from humble home,
The first who to the strains of Rome
Brought in Aeolian song. Be proud
Of honour due to worth allowed,
And wreath of Delphic laurel twined,
Melpomene, grant, my locks to bind.