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Title: Six Epitaphs On Ensign Peacock
Author: Charles Lamb [
More Titles by Lamb]
(1799)
MARMOR LOQUITUR
He lies a Volunteer so fine,
Who died of a decline,
As you or I, may do one day;
Reader, think of this, I pray;
And I humbly hope you'll drop a tear
For my poor Royal Volunteer.
He was as brave as brave could be,
Nobody was so brave as he;
He would have died in Honor's bed,
Only he died at home instead.
Well may the Royal Regiment swear,
They never had such a Volunteer.
But whatsoever they may say,
Death is a man that will have his way:
Tho' he was but an ensign in this world of pain;
In the next we hope he'll be a captain.
And without meaning to make any reflection on his mentals,
He begg'd to be buried in regimentals.
ON TIMOTHY WAGSTAFF
Here lies the body of Timothy Wagstaff,
Who was once as tall and as straight as a flagstaff;
But now that he's gone to another world,
His staff is broken and his flag is furled.
ON CAPTAIN STURMS
Here lieth the body of Captain Sturms,
Once "food for powder," now for worms,
At the battle of Meida he lost his legs,
And stumped about on wooden pegs.
Naught cares he now for such worthless things,
He was borne to Heaven on angels' wings.
ON MARGARET DIX
_(Born on February 29)_
_Ci git_ the remains of Margaret Dix,
Who was young in old age I ween,
Though Envy with Malice cried "seventy-six,"
The Graces declared her "nineteen."
ON ONESIMUS DRAKE
To the memory of Dr. Onesimus Drake,
Who forced good people his drugs to take--
No wonder his patients were oft on the rack
For this "duck of a man" was a terrible quack.
ON MATTHEW DAY
Beneath this slab lies Matthew Day,
If his body had not been snatched away
To be by Science dissected;
Should it have gone, one thing is clear:
His soul the last trump is sure to hear,
And thus be resurrected.
[The end]
Charles Lamb's poem: Six Epitaphs On Ensign Peacock
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