And now 'tis done: more durable than brassMy monument shall be, and raise its headO'er royal pyramids: it shall not dreadCorroding rain or angry Boreas,Nor the long lapse of immemorial time.I shall not wholly die: large residueShall 'scape the queen of funerals. Ever newMy after fame shall grow, while pontiffs climbWith silent maids the Capitolian height.“Born,” men will say, “where Aufidus is loud,Where Daunus, scant of streams, beneath him bow'dThe rustic tribes, from dimness he wax'd bright,First of his race to wed the Aeolian layTo notes of Italy.” Put glory on,My own Melpomene, by genius won,And crown me of thy grace with Delphic bay.