Epitaphs for Country Churchyards/Verses
"Beneath a sleeping infant lies,
To earth whose body lent
More glorious shall hereafter rise,
But not more innocent.
When the archangel's trump shall blow,
And souls to bodies join,
Millions will wish their lives below
Had been as short as thine."
"How often does the heav'nly Shepherd
His peculiar love display;
When He comes His flock to visit,
And a lamb He bears away;—
Away to those sweet fields above,
Where the lov'd ones hear His voice,
See His face, and weep no more,—
For in heav'n they all rejoice."
"Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care,
The opening buds to heaven convey'd,
And bade them blossom there."
"Within this grave an infant, nine months old,
Is laid in trust.—God takes His purest gold
First to Himself.—We all are but as flowers,
That spring and grow, and fade in a few hours."
"Why, mother, will you longer weep?
Your baby is but lull'd asleep;
And, pretty child, feels now no more
The pains it often felt before.
Now all is silent,—groans are fled;
Your child lies still, yet is not dead;
But rather like a flow'r lies here,
To spring again another year."
"Here side by side ow infants lie!
Nor sickness frets, nor fear alarms.
The lov'd ones of the Shepherd's eye,
The lambs He carries in His arms!
We weep,—yet angels seem to say,
Who would see heav'n must be as they."
God gave this treasure for a time,
But, fathomless His will sublime,
Our flowret scarcely liv'd to know
His wondrous works on earth below.
God took our darling child away,—
Shall we not meekly bow, and say,
His will be done,—to us a loan,
The child is wholly now His own?—A.
Think not, beneath this grassy grave,
Our son is laid to rest;
The soul that Jesus died to save
Liveth among the blest.—A.
"Scarce had I flutter'd into life,
And joy to my dear parents given,
Than on my tender brow was placed,
A crown of righteousness in heaven."
Like tender plant in fair array,
She blossom'd here a little day,
But oh! sweet hope, 'twas but a dream,—
She pass'd away like flowing stream;
Yet angel-voices seem to cry,
From yonder bright and blissful sky,
And tell of consolation there,
Where all is lasting, bright, and fair."
"Weep not, dear mother, weep not, I am blest,
And must leave heaven did I return to thee;
For I am where the weary are at rest,
The wicked cease from troubling. Come to me."
"Sweet babe, from griefs and dangers,
Rest here, for ever free;
We leave thy dust with strangers,
But, O, we leave not thee.
"Thy mortal sweetness, smitten
To scourge our souls from sin,
Is on our memr'y written,
And treasur'd deep therein;
"While that which is immortal
Fond Hope doth still retain,
And saith, 'At heaven's bright portal
Ye all shall meet again.'"
"Here innocence and beauty lies, whose breath
Was snatch'd by early, not untimely, death;
Hence was she snatch'd, just as she did begin
Sorrow to know,—before she knew to sin.
Death, that can sin and sorrow thus prevent,
Is the next blessing to a life well spent."
On a Mother and her Infants.
"From God they came, to God they went again;
No sin they knew, and knew but little pain;
And here they lie, by their fond mother's side,
Who liv'd to love and lose them,—then she died."
"Those whom God loves die young!
They see no evil days;
No falsehood taints their tongue,
No wickedness their ways.
"Baptiz'd, and so made sure
To win their blest abode;
What could we pray for more?
They die, and are with God."
Rest in peace, my darling, rest,—
Thy body in its grassy grave;
Thy soul in realms of glory blest,—
The soul that Jesus died to save.
At rest we'll strive to think of thee,
Till once again in heaven we meet;
Our hearts to God in love we'll raise,
And lay our griefs at Jesu's feet.—A.
"Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy,
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair:
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb,
It is there, it is there, my child."
"The mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love;
She knew she should find them all again
In the fields of light above.
"Oh, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
'Twas an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away."
"Sleep, little baby, sleep!
Not in thy cradle-bed,
Not on thy mother's breast,
Henceforth shall be thy rest,
But with the quiet dead.
"God took thee in His mercy,
A lamb untask'd, untried;
He fought the fight for thee,
He won the victory,
And thou art sanctified."
"Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee,
Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb,
The Saviour has pass'd through its portals before thee,
And the lamp of His love is thy light through the gloom.
"Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee,
Whose God was thy ransom, thy Guardian, thy Guide;
He gave thee, He took thee, and He will restore thee;
And Death has no sting, for the Saviour has died."
"Let no proud stone with sculptur'd virtues rise,
To mark the spot wherein a sinner lies;
Or if some boast must deck the sinner's grave,
Boast of His love who died lost man to save."
"Rejoice for a brother deceas'd;
Our loss is his infinite gain;
A soul out of prison releas'd,
And freed from its bodily chain:
With songs let us follow his flight,
And mount with his spirit above,
Escap'd to the mansions of light,
And lodg'd in the Eden of love."
"It matters little at what hour o' the day
The righteous falls asleep; death cannot come
To him untimely, who is fit to die:
The less of this cold world, the more of heaven,—
The briefer life, the earlier immortality."
"She is gone to the land where the careworn and weary
Enjoy the sweet rapture of sacred repose,
She has quitted for ever this wilderness dreary,
And bid a long farewell to time and its woes.
While on earth she was lov'd, and we deeply deplore her,
But, ah! shall a murmur escape from our breast?—
Do you ask how she lived? she set heaven before her;
Do you ask how she died? in the faith of the blest."
"A lowly follower of the Lord above,
While here on earth his soul on heaven was bent;
His words were kindness, and his deeds were love,
His spirit humble, and his life well spent:
These then, and not this stone, shall be his monument."
"No flatt'ring praises daub my stone,
My frailties and my faults to hide;
My faults and frailties 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 you can say
That I'm a viler man than you."
"Here lies an old soldier, whom all must applaud,
Since he suffer'd much hardship at home and abroad;
But the hardest engagement he ever was in
Was the battle of self in the conquest of sin."
"When faith and love, which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this early load
Of death, call'd life, which us from life doth sever."
"Thou soul of God's best earthly mould!
Thou happy soul! and can it be
That these two words of glitt'ring gold
Are all that must remain of thee?"
"The grave has eloquence; its lectures teach,
In silence, louder than divines can preach:
Hear what it says, ye sons of folly, hear;
It speaks to you,—lend an attentive ear."
"Reader! art thou prepar'd to welcome death,
Like her whose body rests in hope beneath?
Her stedfast aim, the glory of her God;
Her only trust, a Saviour's precious blood.
The friends of Jesus death assaults in vain,—
With whom to live is Christ, to die is gain."
"How blest the righteous when he dies,
When sinks a weary soul to rest;
How mildly beam the closing eyes,
How gently heaves th' expiring breast.
So fades a summer cloud away,
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er,
So gently shuts the eye of day,
So dies a wave along the shore."
"O yes, a rest remaineth on high
Where glory immutably shines;
Where eternity measures the boundless joy,
And perfection never declines.
Eyes with the film of death are not dimn'd,
Forms waste not, nor weary with pain,
No voice is hush'd in the song of praise,
For no heart shall grieve again."
"Saint after saint on earth
Has liv'd, and lov'd, and died;
And as they leave us one by one,
We lay them side by side.
"We lay them down to sleep,
But not in hope forlorn;
We lay but to ripen there,
Till the last glorious morn."
"O, most delightful hour by man
Experienc'd here below,—
The hour that terminates his span,
His folly and his woe.
"Worlds should not tempt me back to tread
Again life's dreary waste,
To see again my day o'erspread
With all the gloomy past.
"My home henceforth is in the skies,
Earth, seas, and sun, adieu!
All heaven unfolded to my eyes,
I have no sight for you."
"The night is past, the stars remain;
So man that dies shall live again:
Our warfare is accomplish'd.
We rest in hope to see
A joyful resurrection,
When time no more shall be."
"Pass, pass, ye mourners, cheerly on,
Through prayer unto the tomb,
Still, as ye watch life's falling leaf
Gathering from every loss and grief
Hope of new spring and endless home.
"Then cheerly to your work again,
With hearts new-brac'd and set
To run, untir'd, love's blessed race,
As meet for those, who face to face,
Over the grave their Lord have met."
"To mourning hearts and weeping eyes
Springs comfort from the sod,—
Gather'd to all she loves, she lies,
And gather'd to her God."
"Brother, thou art gone before us,
And thy sainted soul is flown,
Where tears arc wip'd from every eye,
And sorrow is unknown;
From the burthen of the flesh,
And from care and sin releas'd;
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.
"Sin can never taint thee now,
Nor doubt thy faith assail,
Nor thy meek trust in Jesus Christ
And the Holy Spirit fail;
And there thou'rt sure to meet the good,
Whom on earth thou lovedst best,
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest."
Death for the living,
Sin has brought us;
The ways of sorrow
It has taught us.
But life to the dead
The Saviour gave;
So strong to help us,
So true to save.—A.
Jesus, Saviour, Thou beholdest
All the Souls that cling to Thee;
Thou the joys of heaven unfoldest,
By Thy wounds on Calvary.
Trusting only in Thy mercy,
Man can never fear the grave;
Thou art ever nigh to help him,
And Thine arm is strong to save.—A.
"Lo! here in earth my body lies,
Whose sinful life deserv'd the rod;
Yet I believe the same shall rise,
And praise the mercies of my God.
As for my soul, let none take thought,
It is with Him that hath it bought;
For God on me doth mercy take,
For nothing else but Jesu's sake."
"They stand before their Father's face,
All fears and trembling o'er,
Redeem'd and wash'd, they dwell at home,
And shall go out no more!
Home, sweet home!
Oh, for that land of rest above,
Our eternal home!"
"The op'ning heavens around me shine,
With beams of sacred bliss,
For Jesus shews His mercy mine,
And whispers 'I am His.'"
"Oh weep no more for him that's gone
Where sin and suffering ne'er can enter,
But on that great High Priest alone,
Who can for guilt like ours atone,
Your own affections centre."
"He came to the Cross when his young cheek was blooming,
And rais'd to the Lord the bright glance of his eye;
And when o'er its beauty death's darkness was looming,
The Cross did uphold him, the Saviour was nigh."
"There is a world of death beneath our feet;
There is a world of life above our heads:
Here ruins, graves, dry leaves, fall'n blossoms meet;
There God, in light and air, His glory spreads."
"Submit yourselves to God, and you shall find
God fights the battles of a will resign'd."
"Let sickness blast, let death devour,
If heaven must recompense our pains;
Perish the grass, and fade the flower,
If pure the Word of God remains."
"Jesus protects, my fears are gone,—
What can the Rock of Ages move?
Safe in Thy arms I lay me down,—
Thy everlasting arms of love."
"I nothing am, I nothing have,
I nothing care, I nothing crave,
But that my Jesus I may see,
And that He may be all to me."
"As when the weary traveller gains
The height of some o'erlooking hill,
His heart revives, if 'cross the plains
He sees his home, though distant still.
"Thus when the Christian pilgrim views
By faith his mansion in the skies,
The sight his fainting strength renews,
And wings his speed to reach the prize.
"''Tis there,' says he, 'I am to dwell
With Jesus in the realms of day,
Then shall I bid my cares farewell,
And He will wipe my tear's away.'"
"How happier far than life the end
Of souls that infant-like beneath their burthen bend."
The day fades into night,
Night groweth into morn;
Sunlight yields to starlight,
The moon and stars to dawn.
Thus in a world of sorrow
Joys brighten but to wane,
Then comes a fairer morrow,
No night-gloom in its train.
Time then will ripen bliss,
Space there will swim with song,
Hope for sure joy like this;—
May hope be sense ere long.—M.
"We wander here, in valley drear,
But Christ's blest voice doth bid rejoice,
Waking from all below, of suff'ring, grief, and woe."
"Bury the dead,—and weep
In stillness o'er the loss;
Bury the dead,—in Christ they sleep,
Who bore on earth His cross;
And from the grave their dust shall rise,
In His own image, to the skies."
The path is long, the way is dreary,
To hearts of earthly troubles weary;
But each day brings us nearer home,
The glorious unseen world to come.—A.
Weep not for me, a Father's love
In mercy call'd me from above,
To rest with Him.
Weep not for me, but still upraise
Your hearts in never-ending praise,
Addrest to Him.—A.
Onward Christian, onward look!
Far beyond the dismal grave;
Written in God's holy Book,
Souls which Jesus died to save.
Upward, Christian, upward climb,
Live not for a world like this;
Look for homes of love sublime,
Realms of everlasting bliss.—A.
"I heard the voice of Jesus say,
Behold! I freely give
The living water,—thirsty one,
Stoop down, and drink, and live.
I came to Jesus, and I drank
Of that life-giving stream,
My thirst was quench'd, my soul reviv'd,
And now I live in Him."
"Adieu, belovèd friend, adieu!
On earth we only meet to part;
Yet to the Christian's brighter view
Still we are one, still near in heart
"And though the stream of death divide
Our souls a moment on its shore,
They part to meet, they join t' abide
Where pain and parting are no more."
"In ev'ry stage of life is giv'n
A warning voice; it comes from heav'n.
In childhood's hour it breathes around,
'The fairest flowers are faded found.'
In youth, it whispers as a friend,
'Reflect upon thy latter end.'
In manhood, louder swells the cry,
'Remember thou art born to die.'
In age, it thunders on the blast,
'O, man! thy earthly years are past.'
In joy and grief, in ease and care,
In every stage, 'Prepare, prepare.'"
"Why seek the living 'mong the dead?
'Tis but the dust that slumbers here,
The life is with the spirit fled
To some bright sphere.
Let Death his triumphs vaunt in might,
Spread his cold couch for them that lie,
The soul that wings its heavenward flight
Can never die."
"Nor joy, nor grief, nor time, nor place,
Nor life, nor death can part
Those who, enjoying Jesu's grace,
In Him are one in heart.
"For Jesus wipes away each tear
Upon that blissful shore,
Where all who friends in Jesus are,
Once met, shall part no more."
"Affliction is not sent in vain
From that great God who chastens whom He loves,—
Oh, there is healing in the bitter cup!"
"To pious souls death only is a strait,
A short, dark passage to a future state
Of endless life. Their ashes in the grave
No prison, but a sanctuary have;
Till pure and more refin'd the just shall rise,
With bodies light
As air, than plume more bright,—
Bodies fit for such souls, souls for such joys."
"Live to die, for die you must,
And die to live among the just."
"Lo! the prisoner is releas'd,
Lighten'd of his fleshly load;
Where the weary are at rest,
He is gather'd unto God!
Lo! the pain of life is past,
All his warfare now is o'er;
Death and hell behind are cast
Grief and suff'ring are no more.
"Yes! the Christian's course is run,
Ended is the glorious strife;
Fought the fight, the work is done,
Death is swallow'd up of life!
Borne by angels on their wings,
Far from earth the spirit flies,
Finds his God, and rests, and sings.
Triumphing in Paradise."
"The soul with Jesus rests above,
The body lies in gentle sleep;
Heart can warm heart in holy love,—
The peace of heav'n is pure and deep.
No more weigh'd down by pain and strife,
Her spirit is refresh'd and free;
After the battle-hour of life,
Saviour, she findeth rest in Thee!
"The weary body resteth here,
The dust in earth's dark bosom laid
Shall at the Saviour's voice appear,
In beauty and in strength array'd;
United with the spirit pure,
From the cold grave in glory rais'd,
That day of joy shall aye endure,
The Lamb shall evermore be prais'd."—C. B.
"My time is come, next may be thine,—
Prepare for it while thou hast time;
And that thou mayst prepared be,
Live unto Him that died for thee."
"May angels guard my sleeping dust,
Till Christ shall come to raise the just;
Then may I wake with sweet surprise,
And in my Saviour's image rise."
"She died in Jesus, and is bless'd,—
How sweet her slumbers are!
From suff'rings and from sin releas'd,
And freed from every care."
"Say, wouldst thou die in peace? then seek that Blood
Which reconciles a sinner to his God."
"Happy soul, thy days are ended,
All thy mourning days below;
Go, by angel-guards attended,
To the sight of Jesus go.
Waiting to receive thy spirit,
Lo! the Saviour stands above,
Shews the purchase of His merit,
Stretches out the crown of love."
"She had no riches, but a humble heart,
In meek submission with her lot to bow;
Even on earth she saw her God 'in part,'
And 'face to face' she sees His glory now."
"We both have left this vale of tears,
Through which we travell'd a few years;
We sleep all free from grief and pain,
Hoping with Christ to rise again."
"She is not dead, but sleepeth,
The Lord in safety keepeth
Her whom we lov'd so well;
And soon her mould'ring dust shall be
Restor'd to life and liberty,
A Saviour's love to tell,—
A glorious home with those to share
Who have, like her, their treasure there."
"Reader, when you are breasting
Life's ever stormy wave,
Think of those others resting
Within the silent grave;
And then when you remember
That you like them must be,
Live to make life more worthy
Of Him who died for thee.—A.
Think not, dear friend, that I lie dead
Within a grave like this;
'Tis but the sleep to earth and time,
Which wakes in endless bliss.—A.
"Death may the bonds of life unloose,
But not dissolve Christ's love;
Millions of infant souls compose
The family above.
"Their feeble frames His pow'r doth raise,
And mould with heav'nly skill;
He gives them tongues to sing His praise.
And hands to do His will."
"When fled is our youth and death is in sight,
The word of His truth shall still be our light;
Though tempests may lour, with Christ on our side,
In death's darkest hour the Lord shall provide."
"While in this world we still remain,
We only meet to part again;
But when we reach the heav'nly shore,
Those who once meet shall part no more."
"Thou art gone to thy rest, brother!
We will not weep for thee;
For thou art now where oft, on earth,
Thy spirit long'd to be.
"Thou art gone to thy rest, brother!
Thy toils and cares are o'er;
And sorrow, pain, and suff'ring now
Shall ne'er distress thee more.
"Thou art gone to thy rest, brother!
Death had no sting for thee,
Thy dear Redeemer's might hath gain'd
For thee the victory."—O. P.
"Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidd'st me come to Thee,—
O Lamb of God, I come!
"Just as I am, Thy love unknown
Has broken every barrier down,
Now to be Thine, yea, Thine alone,—
O Lamb of God, I come!"
"Take comfort, Christians, not as those
To whom no hope is giv'n,
Death is the messenger of peace,
And calls the soul to heav'n.
"As Jesus died and rose again
Victorious from the dead;
So his disciples rise and reign,
With their triumphant Head.
"Together to their Father's house
With joyful hearts they go,
And dwell for ever with the Lord,
Beyond the reach of woe."
"Oh! fear not in a world like this,
And thou shalt know ere long,—
Know how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong."
Cease to weep, the strife is over,
Pain and anguish are no more;
Joy and gladness reign for ever
On the glorious heav'nly shore.
Wake to gladness, cease to murmur
For thy noble-hearted boy;
For the seed, though sown in sorrow,
Shall be reap'd in endless joy.—A.
"We are but strangers here,
Heaven is our home;
Earth is a desert drear,
Heaven is our home.
Danger and sorrow stand
Round us on ev'ry hand;
Heaven is our fatherland,
Heaven is our home."
"She is not dead—the child of our affection,
But gone into that school
Where she no longer needs our poor protection,
And Christ Himself doth rule."
"Snatch'd sudden from the avenging rod,
Safe in the bosom of thy God,
How dost thou now look back and smile
On thoughts that bitterest seem'd the while,
And bless the pangs that made thee see
This was no world of rest for thee!"
Thy body here is laid to rest,
Its earthly toils are past,
And to its home among the blest
Thy soul is gone at last;
Wash'd in the fountain of His grace,
It joins the heav'nly throng,
Where in the light of Jesu's face
The angels join in song.
Softly rest, my sleeping sister,
Though thy dust now decks the grave,—
Softly rest, we meet where yonder
Spirits blest enjoyment have.
O holy hope, 'tis not in vain,
Unto my soul thou bringest light;
In better worlds to meet again,—
Be this my trust, my prospect bright.
O come not to disturb the blest,
Who in God's peace do softly rest;
They scarcely blossom'd here below,
But to eternity shall grow.—C. L.
Rest, wanderer, look on me, and know
That I have been what now thou art,
And thou must be what I am now,
For e'en long life must soon depart.—C. L.
"Poor and afflicted, yet ere long,
Joining the bright celestial throng,
His earthly griefs have found their close,
Where heaven affords its sweet repose.
"Who, while he trod life's thorny way,
Was often heard to sigh, and say,
Dear Saviour, come, oh, quickly come!
And take Thy mourning pilgrim home."
"Why do we mourn departed friends,
Or shake at death's alarms?
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends
To call them to His arms.
"Calm on the bosom of thy God,
Fair spirit, rest thee now!
E'en while with ours thy footsteps trod,
His seal was on thy brow.
"Dust to its narrow house beneath!
Soul to its place on high!
They that have seen thy look in death,
No more may fear to die."
"Blame not the monumental stone we raise,
'Tis to the Saviour's, not the creature's, praise;
Sin was the whole that she could call her own,—
Her goodness all derived from Him alone.
To sin her conflicts, pains, and grief she owed,
Her conqu'ring faith and patience He bestow'd.
Reader! mayst thou obtain like precious faith,
To smile in anguish and rejoice in death."
"A little while, and ev'ry fear,
That o'er the perfect day
Flings shadows dark and drear,
Shall pass like mist away."
"My Saviour, come, my soul receive,
Transported from this vale to live,
And reign with Thee above;
Where faith is sweetly lost in sight,
And hope, in full supreme delight,
And never-ending love."
"When from the dust of death I rise
To take my mansion in the skies,
E'en then shall this be all my plea,—
'Jesus hath liv'd and died for me.'"
"Wouldst thou meet death without dismay?
Seek Christ to take its sting away."
"Art thou young, and wouldst thou live
In peace that God alone can give,
Conqu'ring every worldly lust?
Watch and pray, and seek and trust.
"Art thou old, and wouldst thou die
A servant of the Lord on high?
Wouldst thou reign among the just?
Watch and pray, and seek and trust.
"Old and young, and rich and poor,
Sinner,—Death is at the door;
All are hastening to the dust,—
Watch and pray, and seek and trust."
"God only smites, that through the wounds of woe
The healing balm He gives may inlier flow."—J. S.
Beneath the ever-peaceful grave
Thy body findeth rest;
Thy life is from all sickness free,
Thy soul with angels blest.
Where the silver stars are shining,
Before the Father's throne,
And where no grief or pain can come,
There, brother, thou art gone.
Jesus, Saviour, when o'erwhelming,
Death with terrors seem'd to be,
Still we hop'd, for Thou hadst taught us
Not to fear, but cling to Thee.
Thus in Death a friend we found,
For peace and love were seen beyond.—A.
"Time, which had silver'd o'er my aged head,
At length has rang'd me with the peaceful dead:
One hint, gay youth, from dust and ashes borrow,—
My days were many,—thine may end to-morrow."
"When the shore is won at last,
Who will count the billows past?"