WHEN I have ceased to rant and rave, and all my earthly days are spent, I pray you place not on my grave a large and gaudy monument. All ostentation's doubly vain, when on this world we've closed our eyes; give me a slab, with legend plain: "Beneath this board your uncle lies." For if I've cut some grass on earth, I'll need no marble to proclaim the story of my sterling worth, or to perpetuate my fame. And if I am a false alarm, not worth the room I occupy, no towering shaft can add a charm to my bum record, when I die. How foolish look the gents who sleep beneath all kinds of sculptured rocks, who were considered passing cheap, before we placed each in his box. How foolish is all such parade, such pomp amid the graveyard gorse! A hundred-dollar saddle laid upon a fifteen- dollar horse! When I have jumped this mundane realm, and journeyed o'er the silent sea, a three-foot slab of slippery elm is plenty good enough for me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A POEM OF SPRING by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE HWOMESTEAD by WILLIAM BARNES SONNET: AM I TO LOSE YOU? by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON CAELIA: SONNETS: 4 by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THE RITTER BANN by THOMAS CAMPBELL SMOKE IS THE FOOD OF LOVERS by JACOB CATS |