Here be the ashes of Jacob Todd, Sexton now in the land of Nod. Digging he lived, and digging died, Pick, mattock, spade, and nought beside. Here oft at evening he would sit Tired with his toil, and proud of it; Watching the pretty Robins flit. Now slumbers he as deep as they He bedded for ye Judgement Day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONLY OF THEE AND ME by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE DEAD PAN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ON SEEING THE ELGIN MARBLES by JOHN KEATS SONNET: 129 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE FOR THE YOUNGEST by CHARLES WESLEY SUSPIRIA NOCTIS by HENRY HOWARD BROWNELL WINDSOR POETICS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON INSCRIPTION FOR THE DOOR OF [BROWNRIGG'S] CELL IN NEWGATE by GEORGE CANNING |