In 1831, six years before Soane died, Haydon wrote an epitaph on him.

John Soane lies here, as good a Man as Earth
did ever tread,
But he had a waspish temper which embittered
on his bed,
Though with Riches & with Talents, God had
him endowed,
He fretted so at every thing, that his happiness
was bowed,
He lent his money with good will to all his
Friends who hinted,
And then felt worried like a fool their wishes
he had stinted.
He fretted when he had money, he fretted
when he’d none,
He fretted day & night, so he lies beneath this
stone.

Knox may be forgiven for omitting those lines, when we recall the epitaph that the painter’s eldest son, the archivist Frank Scott Haydon (who also committed suicide) wrote for him:

Here lies B. R. Haydon, as all men must,
It is hard to say whether his portraits or his
poetry were wust.

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