C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.
Tomb
Dark lattice! letting in eternal day.
The house appointed for all living.
Who’s a prince or beggar in the grave?
Hang an epitaph on her tomb.
The most magnificent and costly dome is but an upper chamber to a tomb.
The earth, that is nature’s mother, is her tomb.
Death ends our woes, and the kind grave shuts up the mournful scene.
All that tread the globe are but a handful to the tribes that slumber in its bosom.
Men shiver when thou art named; nature appalled shakes off her wonted firmness.
A tomb is a monument placed on the limits of two worlds.
From its peaceful bosom spring none but fond regrets and tender recollections.
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, like one that wraps the drapery of his couch about him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
It buries every error, covers every defect, extinguishes every resentment.
And so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie, that kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
I would rather sleep in the southern corner of a little country churchyard than in the tomb of the Capulets.