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 p-ing place         Where we have never lain! "There's not a modest maiden elf         But dreads the final Trumpet, Lest half of her should rise herself,         And half some local strumpet! "From restorations of Thy fane,         From smoothings of Thy sward, From zealous Churchmen's pick and plane         Deliver us O Lord! Amen!" 1882.