Epitaph on Elizabeth L. H by Ben Jonson

Nobody knows for sure. Jonson intentionally concealed her surname, and scholars have never agreed on who she really is. The initials L. H. have sparked a range of theories over the years, but the mystery stays unsolved — just as Jonson wanted.

Jonson explores the notion that beauty has an element of immortality. He suggests that only the part of her beauty that can fade is buried here — the remainder continues to exist, be it in memory, through art, or in some transcendent space. This serves as both a compliment and a philosophical reflection on what beauty truly is.

He suggests that her surname is "better" to be whispered at the grave than celebrated during her life, hinting at something complex—a secret, a social stigma, or a personal sorrow tied to her family name. This withholding also serves as a final act of kindness: he offers her peace instead of public scrutiny.

It's written as if it were, but it was likely a literary epitaph — a poem designed to be read on the page rather than carved in stone. By Jonson's time, the tradition of literary epitaphs was well established.

The poem uses rhyming couplets and follows iambic tetrameter, with four beats per line. This structured form reflects the limitations of a true epitaph, where every word must justify its inclusion, and the closed couplets impart a feeling of closure to each thought.

He suggests that her outer beauty resembled a harbor — a safe space — for her even greater inner virtue. During the Renaissance, people often connected physical beauty with moral goodness: a beautiful appearance was viewed as an indication of inner value. Jonson not only embraces that notion but also asserts that her virtue truly surpassed her beauty.

Jonson penned a number of well-known epitaphs, especially "On My First Son" and "On My First Daughter." These poems are more emotionally raw as they reflect his grief over his own children. In contrast, this particular piece feels more restrained and enigmatic, in part due to the subject's anonymity. Yet, all of these works convey a profound depth using remarkably few words.

The final word, "Farewell," completely changes the mood. Until that point, the poem is clever and well-crafted, exploring themes of beauty and virtue. But "Farewell" strips that away and speaks directly. It's as if the poet stops performing grief and just allows themselves to feel it.