From page 35-36 of Moby Dick, as reproduced here.

those unhealing hearts pathetic wounds
whose dead lie buried beneath the green grass
ye know not the desolation that broods
in black-borders which cover no ash

what despair! What voids without a grave!
that Life Insurance Companies unstir
the knocking in the tomb will terrify Faith
a jackal feeds on men who go before

Methinks that my shadow is my true
substance. Methinks that in looking
at things spiritual, we are too
like oysters observing the sun and thinking

lees of my body, take it, it is not
me. And stave my soul, Jove cannot.

I'm experimenting with putting rhymes midway through clauses/sentences, at the acute risk of resembling these iconic lines from "We will all go together when we go":

when you attend a funeral
it is sad to think that sooner or l-
-ater those you love will do the same for you

and you may have thought it tragic
not to mention other adjec-
-tives to think of all the weeping they will do