Here Icarus fell; these waves beheld his fate,
Which drew the daring wings to their embrace;
Here the flight ended; here the event took place,
Which those unborn will yearn to emulate.
Thrilling and welcome was his sorrow's weight,
Since, dying, he achieved immortal praise;
Happy that, since he died above disgrace,
So fair a prize his loss should compensate.
With such a fall well may he be content,
If, soaring to the sky like the dawn and brave,
He with too fierce a flame was burnt and spent.
His name now echoes loud in every wave,
Across the sea, throughout the elements;
Who in the world ever gained such a grave?
 
 
 

(Thanks to Ingrid Oostendorp for sending me the text of this sonnet.)

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