On the Grave of a Suicide by C. Cookson

Here, on this rude, unconsecrated ground
No sculptur’d stone thy graceless name declares,
No pious token, save this way-worn mound,
The lasting record of thy ruin bears.

Alas! for thee none toll’d the passing knell,
With decent turf none cloth’d thy shapeless tomb,
But as a land mark of thy grave they tell,
Unpitying, or unconscious of thy doom.

Deluded! who with self destructive hand
Could’st seek in Death a balm for mortal ill,
Unmindful that the deed by Him is scann’d,
Who hath to give and take, alike the will.

To thy sad mem’ry be this tablet rear’d,
And this the tribute to thy desp’rate fame —
“Stranger! here lies, who though to live he fear’d,
“Yet dar’d to die, and meet his God with shame.”

From: Cookson, C., Glastonbury Abbey, a poem. [Followed by] Minor Poems, 1828, W. Bragg: Taunton, p. 141.
(https://books.google.com.au/books?id=BA2d0XhvLbUC)

Date: 1828

By: C. Cookson (fl. 1828)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: