SIC CONSTAT mortale nihil: sic luminis oras

Quae subeunt, abeunt: rapit heu rapit omnia tellus

Quae peperit: refugusque vigor mortalibus aevum

Decurtat miserum: dociles non parcere Parcae,

Sic occant nimium: sic, sic abrupta beati

Stamina Parkeri, tantum dant flere misello

Orbatoque gregi, quantum bona commoda vitae

Volverat aureolus cursus, plebesque regendi

Gnarus amor, sollersque animus, fluidosque premendo

Mite supercilium, mens et lentando modesta.

ET MEA quae tanto viduata camoena patrono est,

Luget in abruptum: rursus decidua fatis:

Rursus inhorrendas mundi sensura procellas.

O bene coelicolae, tanto quod functus honore

Evicit linguasque hominum, nigrasque loquelas.

Quas spargit numerus, quas sacra insania ructat:

ERGO IACE venerande heros: et murmure stulto

Invidia maiorque omni, felixque peracto

Obdormi stadio: nos hic tua facta sonamus:

Te plenique, et amore tui: te flemus ademtum. 20

Te te, magne pater nos hic veneramur, amamus,

Et tanti aeternum mirabimur acta magistri.

This much is known. Mortal life is nothing.

The Parcae spare none and leave this flock

orphaned. The threads of Parker's life are cut.

So we, bereft, are brought down to weeping.

My Muse, widow of so great a patron,

collapses with grief, a victim to fate;

but he vanquished the rumours set abroad,

and he has joined the denizens of Heaven.

And so lie quiet, hero of our wars.

Your work is done. Here, we trumpet your deeds.

You have Heaven's favour. You may sleep.

We are still filled with grief and here is where

we show our love and give you honour.

We marvel at the victory of a master.