But Mary lies here, for she had but one lung.
She talked all her life till she died with lockjaw;
I now rest in peace—she was my mother-in-law.
The grass is green, the rose is red,
But the man who lies here had no hair on his head.
A man lies under this monument grand
Who was caught with five aces at once in his hand.
With seven wives when on earth he was blessed,
But now the poor lobster is taking a rest.
Lonely and sad and silent and damp,