Brave lodgings for one, brave lodgings for one,
A few feet of cold earth, when life is done;
A stone at the head, a stone at the feet;
A rich, juicy meal for the worms to eat;
Rank grass overhead, and damp clay around,
Brave lodging for one, these, in holy ground!
More verses by Charles Dickens
- Little Nell's Funeral
- A Fine Old English Gentleman
- George Edmunds' Song
- Squire Norton's Song
- The Song Of The Wreck