Thomas Lovell Beddoes (1803–1849)

From ‘Death’s Jest Book’

A CYPRESS-BOUGH, and a rose-wreath sweet,

A wedding-robe, and a winding-sheet,

A bridal-bed and a bier.

Thine be the kisses, maid,

And smiling Love’s alarms;

And thou, pale youth, be laid

In the grave’s cold arms.

Each in his own charms,

Death and Hymen both are here;

So up with scythe and torch,

And to the old church porch,

While all the bells ring clear;

And rosy, rosy the bed shall bloom,

And earthy, earthy heap up the tomb.