Epitaph
Sheltered from summer’s brazen mirth, Here by this slender-flowing brook, There lies a man who since his birth Lived so aërially it took Death to bring him down to earth.
Sheltered from summer’s brazen mirth, Here by this slender-flowing brook, There lies a man who since his birth Lived so aërially it took Death to bring him down to earth.
Epitaph is a five-line description of a gravestone's occupant, and its whole trick is a pun. The man buried here, we're told, "lived so aërially" that only death could "bring him down to earth." In other words, he spent his life with his head in the clouds, light, airy, perhaps dreamy or unworldly, and the grave is the first place he has ever been grounded. The final phrase works two ways at once: he has literally been lowered into the earth, and he has at last become practical, settled, down-to-earth.
The speaker's tone is gentle and wryly affectionate rather than grieving. There's a quiet joke here, but not a cruel one. The setting helps: a slender, softly flowing brook, shade that shelters him from summer's "brazen mirth," meaning the loud, showy cheer of the season. The mood is calm, a little amused, and peaceful, as if the dead man has finally found a place that suits him.