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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Mozart’s Grave</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where lies Mozart? Tradition shows<br>A likely spot: so much, no more:<br>No words of his own time disclose<br>When crossed He to the Further Shore,<br>Though later ages, roused to shame,<br>On tardy tomb have carved his name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sexton asked, ``What may this be?''<br>``A Kapellmeister.'' ``Pass it in:<br>This common grave to all is free,<br>And for one more is room within.<br>It fills the fosse. Now tread it down,<br>With pauper, lunatic, and clown.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet had he wizarded with sound<br>Electors, Cardinals, and Kings,<br>While there welled forth from source profound<br>The flow of silvery-sounding springs,<br>Music of tenderness and mirth,<br>One with his very soul at birth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And they? Where are they now? The bust,<br>The elaborately carven tomb,<br>Whose scrolls, begrimed by age and dust,<br>None care to stoop and scan for whom,<br>Are all remaining to express<br>Their monumental nothingness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mitre, and coronet, and Crown,<br>Gaze into space that heeds them not,<br>Unmeaning pomp of dead renown,<br>Medley of Monarchs long forgot,<br>Who from the nations' ghastly strife<br>Won immortality-for life.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once, on Nile's bank an artist raised<br>A temple at the King's command,<br>And on it name august emblazed.<br>But when a flood submerged the land,<br>His name was washed away, and lo!<br>The artist's own stood out below.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus vanish ostentatious lives,<br>But, through all time, belov'd Mozart,<br>Your magic memory survives,<br>Part of the universal heart:<br>In joy a sympathetic strain,<br>In sorrow, soother of our pain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Potentates on whom men gaze,<br>When once their Rule hath reached its goal,<br>Die into darkness with their days;<br>But Monarchs of the mind and soul<br>With light unfailing and unspent<br>Illuminate Fame's firmament.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Austin">Alfred Austin</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341427" data-title="Mozart’s Grave de Alfred Austin" data-description="Where lies Mozart? Tradition shows
A likely spot: so much, no more:
No words of his own time disclose
When crossed He to the Further Shore,
Though later ages, roused to shame,
On tardy tomb have carved his name.

The sexton asked, ``What may this ..."></div>
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