A MOST VORACIOUS APPETITE
Отно, entomb'd within this glebe so hallow'd,
Had in his life-time many acres swallow'd;
But in return to this voracious limb,
The earth in justice now has swallow'd him.
ON THE CELEBRATED RICHARDSON.
He falls! the matchless master of the heart,
Who search'd its depth with more than mortal art;
Whose words alone could all it feels express,
Whose skill gave laws to rule it, and to bless.
Now left forlorn, in hopeless grief to sigh,
It mourns that RICHARDSON was born to die!
FRIAR PAUL, in his cell, made his exit of late,
Of the gravel some say; but no matter for that;
He died! that's enough; and if story say right,
Arriv'd at Hell-gate in a pitiful plight.
"Who's there?" cries the Demon on guard. Quoth the other,
"A guilty poor priest, Sir, a Catholic brother." "Halt, instantly halt," cried the sentry, "stand clear;
"Go be damn'd somewhere else, for you sha'nt enter here.
"We admit no such savage, no wretch so uncivil; "Who above ate his God, may below eat the Devil."
MERTON, SURREY.
ON MRS. LACKINGTON.
LADIES, who chance to frisk this way,
With honest hearts and spirits gay,
A serious moment give to one,
Who sleeps beneath this earth and stone.
A better daughter never liv'd,
A better wife ne'er husband griev'd:
To her the claims of kindred dear,
The tender orphan would she rear;
Nor e'er did to the grave descend,
A more sincere and faithful friend :
Think on her virtues; heave a sigh,
That goodness such as hers should die!
And whether you be maid or wife,
Go imitate her former life;
And when to heaven you yield your breath,
May you, like her, have peace in death.
ON A PILLAR IN THE CATHEDRAL, ROCHESTER.
MR. THOMAS PENISTON.
LEARNING, Worship, credit, patrimony,
Wit, wealth, alliance, wife, and progeny,
Servants and friends: all this (alas) had he,
Yet lyeth now in dust here, as you see,
And so doe thousands more, and so shall ye.
He did but follow those that went before,
And you shall follow him, and others more
Shall follow you; small difference in the matter,
But that some goe before, and some come after.
This Stone was erected, by her fellow-citizens, to the
1786, aged 77 years.
PERIWINKS, periwinkle,
Was ever her cry;
She labour'd to live,
Poor and honest to die,
At the last day again,
How her old eyes will twinkle;
For no more will she cry,
Periwinks, periwinkle !
Ye rich, to virtuous want rejoicing give;
Ye poor, by her example learn to live.
ON SIR WALTER RALEIGH,
Written by himself.
EVEN Such is time, which takes in trust
Our youth and joyes, and all we have,
And payes us but with age and dust,
Which in the darke and silent grave,
When we have wandred all our wayes,
Shuts up the story of our dayes:
And from which earth, and grave, and dust,
The Lord shall raise me up I trust.
COME, gentle reader, gentle friend,
And here behold poor CosIER's end.
Longer in length his life had gone
But that he had no last so long;
O mighty Death! whose art can kill
The man that made soles at his will.
UPON A QUARRELLING COUPLE.
Hic jacet ille, qui centies & mille,
Did scold with his wife':
Cumillo jacet illa, quae communis in villa,
Did quittance his life.
His name was NICK, the which was sicke,
And that very malè :
Her name was NAN, which loved well a man,
So gentlemen, Valé.
IN THE CLOISTERS OF WINCHESTER COLLEGE.
One of the Fellows. Who died in 1541.
BENEATH this stone lies shut up in the dark, A fellow and a priest, yclep'd John Clark: With earthly rose-water he did delight ye, But now he deals in heavenly aqua-vitæ.
CHESTERFIELD CHURCH, DERBYSHIRE.
ON EDWARD BURTON,
Attorney at Law, of Chesterfield. Died April 23, 1782, aged 54 years.
A TENDER husband, and a friend sincere,
Consign'd to earth, implores the silent tear.
Learn'd in the laws, he never warp'd their sense,
To shelter vice, or injure innocence;
But firm to truth, by no mean interest mov'd,
To all dispens'd that justice which he lov'd :
Virtue oppress'd he taught her rights to know;
And guilt detected fear'd the coming blow:
Thus humbly useful, and without offence,
He fill'd the circle mark'd by Providence ;
In age compleating what his youth began,
"The noblest work of God, an honest man.”
ON SIR GEORGE NARES, KNT.
One of the Judges of the Court of Common Pleas, who died June 20th, 1786; written by himself a few days before his decease.
IN hope of future bliss content I lie,
Though pleas'd to live, yet not displeas'd to die.
Life has its comforts, and its sorrows too,
For both, to, all-wise Heaven our thanks are due;
Else thoughtless man would fix his place of rest,
Where nature tells him he can ne'er be blest.
How far my hopes are vain, or founded well,
God only knows, but the last day will tell.
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