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Epitaph On Charles Lamb

Lamb lies buried in Edmonton churchyard, and the stone bears the

following lines to his memory, written by his friend, the Rev. H. F.

Cary, the erudite translator of Dante and Pindar:--

"Farewell, dear friend!--that smile, that harmless mirth,

No more shall gladden our domestic hearth;

That rising tear, with pain forbid to flow--

Better than words--no more assuage our woe.

That hand
utstretch'd from small but well-earned store

Yield succour to the destitute no more.

Yet art thou not all lost: through many an age,

With sterling sense and humour, shall thy page

Win many an English bosom, pleased to see

That old and happier vein revived in thee.

This for our earth; and if with friends we share

Our joys in heaven, we hope to meet thee there."

Lamb survived his earliest friend and school-fellow, Coleridge, only a

few months. One morning he showed to a friend the mourning ring which

the author of Christabelle had left him. "Poor fellow!" exclaimed

Lamb, "I have never ceased to think of him from the day I first heard of

his death." Lamb died in five days after--December 27, 1834, in his

fifty-ninth year.

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