The Tribune - Magazine section

Poetry in stone

Full of literary and allegorical imagery, some classic epitaphs can be found in English churchyards. S. Raghunath on how epitaphs can be jolly clean fun

Limericks and epitaphs have remained a popular pastime in literary and artistic circles

What is more appropriate epitaph for a crossword addict than 6 DOWN? Epitaphs need not necessarily be grim and melancholic. They can be (and possibly should be) jolly, clean fun — a tribute to the sense of humour of a person who has passed on (in case of a self-epitaph) or of this survivors.

Some classic epitaphs are to be found in old English churchyards and they are full of literary and allegorical imagery and poetry. Can an epitaph be more touching and poetical than this?

This spot is the sweetest I’ve seen in my life

For it raises my flowers and covers my wife

William Blake wrote the following epitaph when famous artist Sir Joshua Reynolds died.

When Sir Joshua died

All nature was degraded

The King dropped a tear into the Queen’s ears

And all his pictures faded.

Benjamin Franklin took time off from his multifarious activities to come up with:

Here lies Skugg

Snug as a bug in a rug

William Blake wrote the following self-epitaph — a past time popular in literary and artistic circles.

I was buried near this dyke

So my friends may weep as much as they like

Lawyers who value their reputation for veracity would, no doubt, be displeased by this epitaph for one of their kind

Beneath this smooth stone

By the bone of his bone

Lies My Jonathan Small

By lies did this attorney thrive while alive

Now that he’s dead, he lies still

An epitaph for a hypochondriac

Here lies Joan Richards

Who died after a long imaginary illness, patiently borne

A tenderly sentimental epitaph in the Sutton parish churchyard

God took our flower-our little Nell

He thought he too would like a smell

For limericks fans, here’s one to delight

There was an old man who averred

That he had learnt to fly like a bird

Cheered by thousands of people

He leapt from the steeple

This tomb states the date it occurred

There was a young lady in the choir

Whose voice rose higher and higher

Till one Sunday night

It rose quite out of sight

And they found it the next day on the spire

Lloyd George, being a true politician, suggested that the following epitaph be inscribed on his tomb upon his death

Count not his broken promises as a crime

He MEANT them, HOW he meant them at the time

John Dryden wrote this epitaph-epigram for his wife

Here lies Mary

Here let her lie

She’s at peace

And so am I

One presumes that Dryden’s domestic life must have been a stormy one.

An epitaph for a shrewish woman in a similar vein

Here lies, thank heaven

A woman who quarreled and stormed her way thru’

Tread softly over her slumberin’ form

For fear your provoke another storm

For the ubiquitous chatterbox, what better epitaph than

Beneath this stone, a lump of clay

Lies Arabella Young

Who on April 3, 1773, finally learned to hold her tongue

And an epitaph for a dentist

Stranger! Approach this spot with gravity

John Brown is filling his last cavity

John Ford must have been a tyrant all right, seeing that the following is the epitaph on his wife’s tomb

Here lies Mary, wife of John Ford

We hope that her soul has gone to the Lord

But if for hell she has changed her residence

She better be there than be John Ford’s wife

Our roads are menaced by speed maniacs and here’s an epitaph for one such written, no doubt, by a long suffering pedestrian

He passed the bobby without any fuss

And he passed the cart of hay

He tried to pass a swerving bus

And then he passed away

To conclude, an epitaph for the contemporary times we live in

Here lies an Astronomer

Who while watching the Sky

Was hit by the falling Lab.