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“The church was simply the former chapel of the castle, fronting upon its grass-grown court, which, however, was of generous enough width to have given up its quaintest corner to a little graveyard. Here the very headstones themselves seemed to sleep, as they slanted into the grass.”
― Henry James, The American

“Twas now the very witching time of night,
When churchyards groan, and graves give up their dead,
And many a mischievous, enfranchised sprite
Had long since burst his bonds of stone or lead,
And hurried off, with schoolboy-like delight,
To play his pranks near some poor wretch's bed,
Sleeping, perhaps serenely as a porpoise,
Nor dreaming of this fiendish Habeas Corpus.”
― Thomas Ingoldsby

“Lord Shiva is Lord Jesus and the proof is you can find them in the garden of remembrance”
― Dr.P.S. Jagadeesh Kumar

“A Churchyard In Summertime by Stewart Stafford

O, to stand in a quiet country churchyard,
The graveyard bending in summer zephyrs,
Chlorophyll light beneath swaying poplars,
Rook song in twilight's nocturne.

Oblivious hues spread upon canvas,
Beside the somnambulant swanning river,
Miasmas of midges at the water's edge,
In the crosshairs of a painter's thumb.

Then the sun rolls away over the horizon,
A veil draws across the long day's play,
A churn supper collection of basket and easel,
Recollections in the slumbering night.

© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford