Thomas Hardy



      The Levelled Churchyard


'O Passenger, pray list and catch
            Our sighs and piteous groans,
Half stifled in this jumbled patch
            Of wrenched memorial stones!

'We late-lamented, resting here,
            Are mixed to human jam,
And each to each exclaims in fear,
            "I know not which I am!"

'The wicked people have annexed
            The verses on the good;
A roaring drunkard sports the text
            Teetotal Tommy should!

'Where we are huddled none can trace,
            And if our names remain,
They pave some path or porch or place
            Where we have never lain!

'Here's not a modest maiden elf
            But dreads the final Trumpet,
Lest half of her should rise herself,
            And half some sturdy strumpet!

'From restorations of Thy fane,
            From smoothings of thy sward,
From zealous Churchmen's pick and plane
            Deliver us O Lord! Amen!'


Thomas Hardy.