There are hundreds of tombstones in St James Gardens, at the back of Liverpool Cathedral. Among them is one for John Tindle, glass merchant of Liverpool, who died 8th February 1851 aged 73. On the stone is the following -

A friend so true, there are but few
and difficult to find
A man more just and true to trust
there is not left behind.

It's touching isn't it - someone who really liked the man went to a lot of trouble and expense to get that on the stone. Has anyone else run across verses on grave stones they'd like to pass on?

Dave, I am a graveyard 'admirer' also. I have visited many, just to 'feel the space', which passion is odd since I want to be cremated, and purposefully leave no marker of my own. I shall keep a sharp lookout. I certainly have seen some touching poems, and some peculiar spellings 'carved in stone', a small point that always made me smile. I do not refer to legitimate 'olde spellynge'.

These are my personal favorites:

Come blooming youths, as you pass by ,
And on these lines do cast an eye.
As you are now, so once was I;
As I am now, so must you be;
Prepare for death and follow me.

To follow you
I am not content,
How do I know
Which way you went

*
Here lies Lester Moore.
Four slugs
From a forty-four.
No Les
No More.

*
He was young
He was fair
But the Injuns
Raised his hair

*
Bill Blake
Was hanged by mistake
 
 *
Here lays Butch.
We planted him raw.
He was quick on the trigger
But slow on the draw.

*
Here lies the body of
Thomas Kemp.
Who lived by wool
and died by hemp.

*
Sir John Strange.
Here lies an honest lawyer.
And that is Strange.

*
Stranger tread
This ground with gravity.
Dentist Brown
Is filling his last cavity.

*
This Empty Urn is
Sacred to the Memory
of John Revere
Who Died Abroad
in Finistere:
If He Had Lived
He Would Have Been
Buried Here.

A couple of years ago I was in conversation with a friend from another writing site. She is fairly elderly, lives in Australia and had never visited England, the home of her ancestors. She informed me that her parents had moved to Australia not long after the death of her grandfather in 1884 in a maritime accident in the Bristol Channel off the Devon coast. After talking further I learned that none of her family had ever been able to visit his grave, and, being in the locality, I offered to endeavour to track the grave down and find out whatever information I could from the scant details she knew.

After several false starts involving tours of coastal cemeteries, and finally with the help of the curator of Ilfracombe museum and a log of c.19th shipwrecks, I eventually tracked down the grave to a deconsecrated churhyard outside Ilfracombe. It was hidden beneath several decades of brambles and ivy, but otherwise intact with a clear inscription on the headstone. I photographed the headstone and beamed it over to her in Australia via the magic of email. The museum also tracked down several photgraphs, documents and press cuttings relating to the incident, which I was able to pass on to my friend; thus filling in over a century of mystery for her and her family.

I have to say that I enjoyed this amateur detective quest immensely, and in the process came across many interesting epitaphs and inscriptions.

Now Dave has started this topic I was wondering, (I often wonder) what, as aspiring poets, we might choose or write as our own epitaphs? Go on, immortalise yourself!

Regards,
A.E.

Now weary traveller,
Rest your head,
Because just like me,
You'll soon be dead!

She LIVED!

What a gloomy subject! I'd like to have just two words - WAS LOVED - I won't be able to have anything but my name and dates though cos I'm going into a mass family grave where there won't be room on the stone. At the moment we have quite simply on the top

'TOGETHER, AT PEACE'

which is quite an achievement for a family like mine!

OK, this is along the lines of how mine should be, was, now and forever will be.

'God loves a tryer'
She tried, was tried
and found guilty.
Go.. and be inspired.

I told you I were poorly

Here he lies.

Arsed.

Dave, this thread is a prime example of running off topic from original postings which were sincere and worthwhile. I am as guilty as anyone else. Sorry. I'll still keep a 'lookout' for tombstone poetry in my part of England, when possible.

No problem Cynthia, I love the way discussion threads can go off on hare-brained wild goose chases (to mix animals)