Funeral Oration for the Obsequies of Karl von Hund

If I venture to interrupt my tears on this day of mourning, it is truly not to steal your thanks, to dry your tears, and to pour balm into your deep wounds. Perhaps the day alienates you? Perhaps your tears will become more violent, perhaps your wounds will become deeper. I myself almost despair when I think of him, our most mournful one, as he was, when I think of his noble heart, his soul completely permeated with love for the country, to whom nothing lay closer to his heart than the well-being of the state, who sacrificed his wealth and everything just to promote the cause of his heart, the cause of the E., to snatch the Order from the eternal night in whose darkness it remained burdened. Oh, then I despair of being able to speak.
Know from me, you Freemasons, that he was my tender friend, that he was my father.
Steel yourself, heart; dry up, you fountains of tears! My heart feels nothing but the faith that surrounds the noble one. Only these heavy weeping eyes and these rays may make me capable of looking past the tender thorns of his life to where tears, even yet enduring tears, would rob me of all words and choke my speech.
I will follow the path of his life, step by step.
His birth was so noble that, in the times of the Crusades in the Holy Land, his ancestors were already counted among the most distinguished military commanders. This brought to this family