To these so mourn'd in death, so lov'd in life,
The childless parent, and the widow'd wife,
With tears inscribe this monumental stone,
That holds their ashes, and expects her own.

Mr. Rowe was Poet Laureat and author of several fine Tragedies.

JOHN GAY,

Died December 4, 1732, aged 45.

The short Epitaph on the front was written by himself,

Life is a jest, and all things show it:

I thought so once, but now I know it.

Underneath are these verses by Mr. POPE--

Of manners gentle, of affections mild,
In wit a man, simplicity a child ;

With native humour tempering virtuous rage,
Form'd to delight at once, and lash the age;
Above temptation in a low estate,
And uncorrupted e'en among the great:
A safe companion and an easy friend,
Unblam'd through life, lamented in thy end;
These are thy honors ;-not that there thy bust
Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust;
But that the worthy and the good shall say,
Striking their pensive bosoms-here lies Gay!

TO THE MEMORY OF

MARY HOPE,

Who died at Brook-Hall,

In the County of Northampton,

On the 25th of June, 1767,

Aged 25 years,

And whose remains lie in the neighbouring church at Norton; this stone, an unavailing tribute of affection, is by her husband erected and inscribed.

She was the only daughter of Eliab Breton, of Torty-Hall, Middlesex, Esq. and was married to John Hope, of London, Merchant, to whom she left three infant sons, Charles, John, and William.

Tho' low on earth, her beauteous form decay'd,
My faithful wife, my lov'd Maria's laid,
In sad remembrance, the afflicted raise
No pompous tomb inscrib'd with venal praise,
To statesmen, warriors, and to kings belong
The trophy'd sculpture and the poet's song;
And these the proud expiring often claim,
Their wealth, bequeathing to record their name,
But humble virtue, stealing to the dust,
Heeds not our lays, or monumental bust.
To name her virtues ill befits my grief;
What was my bliss can now give no relief;
A husband mourns the rest let friendship tell;
Fame spread her worth--a husband knew it well.

IN MEMORY OF

An honest man, a constant friend,

JOHN, THE GREAT DUKE of ARGYLE
AND GREENWICH,

A General and Orator,

Exceeded by none in the age he lived. Sir Henry Fearmer, Bart. by his last Will and Testament, left the sum of £500 towards erecting this Monument, and recommended the following Inscription :—

Britons hehold! if patriot worth be dear,
A shrine that claims a tributary tear;
Silent that tongue admiring senates heard,
Nerveless that arm opposing legions fear'd.
Nor less, O Campbell! thine the power to please,
And give to grandeur all the grace of ease.
Long from thy life let kindred heroes trace,
Arts which ennoble till the noblest race;
Others may owe their future fame to me,
I borrow immortality from thee.

His Grace was born October the 10th, 1689, and died
October the 4th, 1743.

IN MEMORY OF

GRACE SCOTT,

Eldest daughter of Sir Thomas Mauleverer, of Alerton Mauleverer, in Yorkshire, Bart. born 1622, married to Colonel Scott, a member of the honorable House of Commons, 1644, and died February 24, 1645.

He that will give my Grace but what is hers,
Must say her death has not

Made only her dear Scott,

But virtue, worth and sweetness, widowers.

TO THE MEMORY OF

STEPHEN HALES,

Doctor in Divinity.

Augusta, the mother of that best of Kings, George the Third, has placed this Monument, who chose him when living to officiate as her Chaplain, and after he died, which was on the 4th of January, 1761, in the 84th year of his age, honored him with this marble:

About the tomb of Hales, whose fair design
And polish, great Augusta caus'd to shine,
Religion, hoary faith, and virtue wait,
And shed perpetual tears in mournful state.
But of the preacher render'd to his clay,
The voice of wisdom still has this to say:
He was a man to hear affliction's cry,

And trace his maker's works with curious eye.
O Hales! thy praises not the latest age
Shall e'er diminish, or shall blot thy page;
England so proud of Newton shall agree,
She has a son of equal rank in thee.

IN MEMORY OF

THE RIGHT HONORABLE JAMES CRAGGS.

Who was made

Secretary at War, in April, 1717,

And One of His Majesty's Privy Council, and
Secretary of State in March, 1718,
He died Feb. 16, 1720, aged 35.

Statesmen, yet friend to truth, of soul sincere,
In action faithful, and in honor clear!

Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end,
Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend.
Ennobl'd by himself, by all approv'd,

Prais'd, wept, and honor'd, by the muse he lov'd.

TO THE MEMORY OF

DAVID GARRICK,

Who died in the year 1779, at the age of 63.

To paint fair nature by divine command,
Her magic pencil in his glowing hand,
A Shakspeare rose-then to expand his fame,
Wide o'er this breathing world a Garrick came
Though sunk in death, the forms the poet drew,
The actor's genius bade them breathe anew:
Though like the bard himself in night they lay,
Immortal Garrick called them back to day: