"Great-Grandmother seemed to run short of rhymes at the last of the epitaph," commented Dan.
"I think Grandmother King intended the last of the epitaph to be in blank verse," said Felicity with dignity.
The captain was now interred, and might, perhaps, have already made a large progress towards oblivion, had not the friendship of Mr Allworthy taken care to preserve his memory, by the following epitaph
, which was written by a man of as great genius as integrity, and one who perfectly well knew the captain.
"A very good epitaph," commented Anne thoughtfully.
He `died of desperate wounds received in gallant action' -- so reads his epitaph. It is such as a soldier might wish for."
Up and down the long grassy aisles they wandered, reading the quaint, voluminous epitaphs, carved in an age that had more leisure than our own.
Hereupon Homer remembered the oracle and, perceiving that the end of his life had come composed his own epitaph
. And while he was retiring from that place, he slipped in a clayey place and fell upon his side, and died, it is said, the third day after.
I take no interest in creeping round dim and chilly churches behind wheezy old men, and reading epitaphs. Not even the sight of a bit of cracked brass let into a stone affords me what I call real happiness.
Harris, however, revels in tombs, and graves, and epitaphs, and monumental inscriptions, and the thought of not seeing Mrs.
It has been used as a prison for political offenders for two or three hundred years, and its dungeon walls are scarred with the rudely carved names of many and many a captive who fretted his life away here and left no record of himself but these sad epitaphs
wrought with his own hands.
also supported Wordsworth's poetics by hallowing common people as a proper subject for morally elevated verse.
Newstock cites a variety of evidence that suggests that early modern culture was obsessed with death, noting that it was a frequent--even favorite--topic among Elizabethan men of letters to such a great extent that the epitaph
became an important literary genre in its own right.
It can be entertaining after the second bottle of wine to compete to write one's own epitaph
In addition, who could have imagined that such a small container as the epitaph
could hold so much?
PHONEY BLAIR The phoney smile, pretence to care That very dodgy dossier The grinning head there constantly He puts the wind up folk like me The conference speech, the flock in awe At every chance the faithful roar Those trips abroad, he loves to roam The world his stage, no time for home The Iraq War a million screams The thousands blown to smithereens And all this built upon a lie While those who knew just walked on by And then that going for Bush's pup He had the cheek to pick it up If truth prevails then history Will see him thus most will agree A smiling conman, with Bush so dim The truth it never bothered him And out of all this misery He's making millions now we see HIs epitaph
upon his stone "Iraq", one word, upon its own.