HERE Brewer Gabriel's fire's extinct,
And empty all his barrels:
He's blest—if, as he brew'd, he drink,
In upright, honest morals.
When I am dead, carve this upon my stone:
Here lies a woman, fit root for flower and tree,
Whose living flesh, now mouldering round the bone,
Wants nothing more than this for immortality,
That in her heart, where love so long unfruited lay
A seed for grass or weed shall grow,
And push to light and air its heedless way;
That she who lies here dead may know
Through all the putrid marrow of her bones
The searing pangs of birth,
......
I didn't die:
the poetry
and the music
still dwells
in my inside-
a monument
so beautifully
constructed for me
there to reside
distilled with billions
......
Who knows where the graveyard is
Where the fox and the eagle lie?
Who has seen the obsequies
Of the red deer when they die?
With death they steal away
Out of the sight of the sun;
Out of the sight of the living, they
Pay the debt and are done.
No marble marks the place;
The common forest brown
......
STOP, passenger! my story's brief,
And truth I shall relate, man;
I tell nae common tale o' grief,
For Matthew was a great man.
If thou uncommon merit hast,
Yet spurn'd at Fortune's door, man;
A look of pity hither cast,
For Matthew was a poor man.
If thou a noble sodger art,
That passest by this grave, man;
......
I didn't die:
the poetry
and the music
still dwells
in my inside-
a monument
so beautifully
constructed for me
there to reside
distilled with billions
......
Here lies a spirit
once vibrant and alive
now resting in the earth,
echoes of laughter linger,
memories weave through the silence,
a journey complete
Yet forever part of the wind
whispering softly
in the hearts left behind.
Epitaph
Time will tell how you lived.
A lot will happen later.
The one you prayed to will take you.
A stone slab will decorate your headboard.
Are you afraid of death?
Do you think about the row of stone alleys?
With your memorial stone right where you stand,
......
IN wood and wild, ye warbling throng,
Your heavy loss deplore;
Now, half extinct your powers of song,
Sweet Echo is no more.
Ye jarring, screeching things around,
Scream your discordant joys;
Now, half your din of tuneless sound
With Echo silent lies.
O YE whose cheek the tear of pity stains,
Draw near with pious rev'rence, and attend!
Here lie the loving husband's dear remains,
The tender father, and the gen'rous friend;
The pitying heart that felt for human woe,
The dauntless heart that fear'd no human pride;
The friend of man-to vice alone a foe;
For 'ev'n his failings lean'd to virtue's side.'