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| Kerstin Bernhard Roses 1952 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| John Hertzberg Roses 1926 autochrome Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Gustaf Wernersson Cronquist Untitled (Roses) ca. 1925 autochrome Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Carl Moll Jar of Roses 1911 oil on panel Leopold Museum, Vienna |
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| Henri Fantin-Latour Roses 1877 oil on canvas Musée des Beaux-Arts de Lyon |
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| Pierre Bourgogne Roses ca. 1875 oil on canvas Musée d'Art et d'Histoire de Toul |
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| Geertruida van Hettinga Tromp White Roses 1910 oil on panel Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands |
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| Jan Voerman Roses ca. 1895 watercolor on paper Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands |
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| Sebastian Wegmayr Studies of Roses ca. 1810-20 watercolor on paper Museum für Angewandte Kunst, Vienna |
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| Raoul Martinez Roses 1927 oil on canvas Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands |
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| Josef Lauer Pink Roses 1839 oil on canvas Belvedere Museum, Vienna |
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| Anton Müller-Wischin Roses ca. 1941 oil on canvas Belvedere Museum, Vienna |
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| Ferdinand Georg Waldmüller Still Life with Roses 1831 oil on panel Belvedere Museum, Vienna |
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| Vincent van Gogh Roses and Peonies 1886 oil on canvas Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands |
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| Franz Krüger Rose in Water 1849 oil on paper, mounted on canvas Belvedere Museum, Vienna |
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| Wilhelm Lachnit Still Life with Roses and Antique Casts 1945 oil on canvas Galerie Neue Meister (Albertinum), Dresden |
The tomb possesses Paterius, sweet-spoken and loveable, the dear son of Miltiades and sorrowing Atticia, a child of Athens of the noble race of the Acacidae, full of knowledge of Roman law and of all wisdom, endowed with the brilliance of all the four virtues, a young man of charm, whom Fate carried off, even as the whirlwind uproots a beautiful sapling. He was in his twenty-fourth year and left to his dear parents undying lament and mourning.
This little stone, good Sabinus, is a memorial of our great friendship. I shall ever miss thee; and if so it may be, when with the dead thou drinkest of Lethe, drink not thou forgetfulness of me.
Here I lie, Timocreon of Rhodes, after drinking much and eating much and speaking much ill of men.
My ill-fated body was covered by the sea, and beside the waves my mother, Lysidice, wept for me much, gazing at my false and empty tomb, while my evil genius sent my lifeless corpse to be tossed with the seagulls on the deep. My name was Pnytagoras and I met my fate on the Aegean, when taking in the stern cables, because of the north wind.
Unhappy man! why do we wander confiding in empty hopes, oblivious of painful death? Here was this Seleucus so perfect in speech and character; but after enjoying his prime but for a season, in Spain, at the end of the world, so far from Lesbos, he lies a stranger on that uncharted coast.
Even though he lies under earth, still pour pitch on foul-mouthed Parthenius, because he vomited on the Muses those floods of bile, and the filth of his repulsive elegies. So far gone was he in madness that he called the Odyssey mud and the Iliad a bramble. Therefore he is bound by the dark Furies in the middle of Cocytus, with a dog-collar that chokes him round his neck.*
– from Book VI (Sepulchral Epigrams) of the Greek Anthology, translated and edited by W.R. Paton (1917)
*This Parthenius, who lived in the time of Hadrian, was known as "the scourge of Homer."