Epitaph Poems
Epitaph For James Smith
by Robert Burns
LAMENT him, Mauchline husbands a',
He aften did assist ye;
For had ye staid hale weeks awa,
Your wives they ne'er had miss'd ye.
Ye Mauchline bairns, as on ye press
To school in bands thegither,
O tread ye lightly on his grass,—
Perhaps he was your father!
The Universal Epitaph
by John Clare
No flattering praises daub my stone,
My frailties and my faults to hide;
My faults and failings all are known—
I liv'd in sin—in sin I died.
And oh! condemn me not, I pray,
You who my sad confession view;
But ask your soul, if it can say,
That I'm a viler man than you.
STEP lightly on this narrow spot
by Emily Dickinson
STEP lightly on this narrow spot!
The broadest land that grows
Is not so ample as the breast
These emerald seams enclose.
Step lofty; for this name is told
As far as cannon dwell,
Or flag subsist, or fame export
Her deathless syllable.
Epitaph For Mr. Gabriel Richardson, Brewer
by Robert Burns
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.
Epitaph On My Ever Honoured Father
by Robert Burns
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.'
Epitaph
by Mario Odekerken
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
by Nastasimir Franović
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,
......
Epitaph On A Lap-Dog
by Robert Burns
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.
Epitaph On My Ever Honoured Father
by Robert Burns
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.'
Epitaph On John Dove, Innkeeper
by Robert Burns
HERE lies Johnie Pigeon;
What was his religion?
Whae'er desires to ken,
To some other warl'
Maun follow the carl,
For here Johnie Pigeon had nane!
Strong ale was ablution,
Small beer persecution,
A dram was memento mori;
But a full-flowing bowl
......
