We're all just names on grave stones that haven't been carved yet. The world will one day only know us by what others chose those words to be, and by who's buried around us, and if someone leaves flowers on special days and pulls weeds and trims back the grass.
--Clarence 0ddbody
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Elegy Written in a Country Church Yard
This was one of my favorite poems in college (especially suited to oil lamp or candle light). It's not ghostly or eerie in any way, but rather a reflection on unremarkable lives that might have been otherwise.
If it were written today, Gray might replace the pastoral images with ones of clerks and janitors and short order cooks, and though the sentiment would be the same, it would somehow be sadder.
Read Gray's Elegy Written in a Country Church Yard >
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