It says that his relics, collected, lie here,

And no mortal yet knows if this may be true. Fierce robbers there are, that infest the highway,

SO MATT. may be kill'd, and his bones never found d; False witness at court, and fierce tempests at sea, So MATT, may yet chance to be hang'd or be drown'd.

If his bones lie in earth, roll in sea, fly in air,

To Fate we must yield, and the thing is the same; And if, passing, thou giv'st him a smile or a tear, He cares not-yet pr'ythee be kind to his fame.

ON PRIOR.

By Mr. Beckingham.

MEAN artifice! to gild precarious fame!
A PRIOR bears a statue in his name.

True merit does to heights unlabour'd climb,
And mocks the rust of age, and waste of time.
Thus did Apelles' hand death's rasure brave,
And share the immortality it gave:

Venus and Ammon, in his colours shewn,
Transmit the painter's glory with their own.

ON WILLIAM LAWES, A MUSICIAN.
Killed at the Siege of West-Chester.

Concord is conquer'd; in this urn there lies
The master of great Musick's mysteries;
And in it is a riddle, like the cause,

Will Lawes was slain by those whose Wills are
Lawes.

In the north aisle of Lavenham church, is a small monument, with a man and woman engraven in brass: from his mouth proceeds a scroll, which has these words upon it: In manus tuus duc comendo spiritum meum, and underneath this inscription.

Contynuall prayse these lines in brass,
Of Allaine Dister here,

A clothier vertuous while he was
In Lavenham many a year:
For as in lyefe he loved best,

The poor to cloathe and feede,
So with the riche, and all the rest,
He neighbourly agreed;
And did appoynte, before he dyed,
A special yearly rent,

Which shoulde be, every Whitsontide,
Amongst the poorest spente.

Et obijt Anno Dm. 1534.

But, whatever this benefaction was, it is now lost, and no one is either willing or able to give any account of it.

IN A COUNTRY CHURCH YARD, IN NORfolk.

ON A CHILD.

ERE sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care;
The op'ning bud to heaven convey'd,
And bade it blossom there.

ON CAVE.

IN THE CHURCH OF BARROW UPON SOAR.

In the County of Leicester.

HERE, in this Grave, there lies a Cave,
We call a Cave a Grave.-

If Cave be Grave, and Grave be Cave,
Then, reader, judge, I crave,
Whether doth Cave here lie in Grave,
Or Grave here lie in Cave;

If Grave in Cave here buried lie,
Then, Grave, where is thy victory?
Go, reader, and report, here lies a Cave,
Who conquers Death, and buries his own Grave.

ON MISS MARTHA ANN YOUNG.

Who died July 14, 1797, in the fifteenth
year of her age.

WHEN youth, when tender beauty, part from life,
Superior to the agonizing strife

Which rends the soul from all that earth holds dear,
Think not the source of fortitude lies here,
Think not they borrow from this fragile clay
So firm a temper, so divine a ray;

With fortitude from Heaven inspir'd, they rise
Angelic, ere transplanted to the skies;

Serene, content, cheerful, they meet the tomb, Where, veil'd, their bud of life springs to eternal bloom.

SIR EDWARD WINTER.

In Battersea Church, Surry, is a monument to the memory of Sir Charles Edward Winter, an East India captain, in the reign of Charles the Second, of whom it is reported, that being attacked in the woods by a tiger, he placed himself by the side of a river, and when the beast flew at him, caught him in his arms, fell back with him into the water, got upon him, and kept him down till he was drowned. This adventure, as well as another wonderful exploit, is vouched for in the following lines, inscribed upon the monument.

Born to be great in fortune as in mind;
Too great to be within an isle confin'd;
Young, helpless, friendless, seas unknown he try'd,
But English courage all those wants supply'd.
A pregnant wit, a painful diligence,
Care to provide, and bounty to dispense,
Join'd with a soul sincere, plain, open, just,

Procur'd him friends, and friends procur'd him trust.
These were his fortune, rise, and thus began
The hardy youth, rais'd to that happy man.
A rare example, and unknown to most,
Where wealth is gain'd, and conscience is not lost.
Not less in martial honour was his name,
Witness his actions of immortal fame.

Alone, unarm'd, a tiger he oppress'd,
And crush'd to death the monster of a beast.
Thrice twenty mounted Moors he overthrew,
Singly, on foot, some wounded, some he slew,
Dispers'd the rest: what more could Sampson do?

HIGH WYCOMBE, BUCKS.

ON FRANCIS BLACKWELL,

AND MARY HIS WIFE.

HERE lies a holy and a happy pair:

As once in grace, they now in glory share.
They dar'd to suffer, and they fear'd to sin;
They meekly bore the cross, the crown to win;
So liv'd on earth, as not afraid to die;
So died, as heirs of immortality.

Reader, attend!-though dead, they speak to thee-
Tread the same paths-the same thy end shall be.

THE following curious epitaph appears on a headstone in the church-yard of Storrington, in the COUNTY OF SUSSEX.

Here lies the body of Edward Hide;
We laid him here because he died.

We had rather

It had been his father.

If it had been his sister,

We should not have miss'd her.

But since 'tis honest Ned

No more shall be said.

IN HARROW CHURCH-YARD.

ON A YOUNG LADY.

SLEEP on, thou fair, and wait th' Almighty's will, Then rise unchang'd, and be an angel still.