ON MRS. KENNEDY,

LATE OF COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE.

INURN'D, and mould'ring with her kindred dust,
Here merit sleeps, as all who triumph must!
Her melody subdu'd the varied throng,
She charm'd a list'ning empire with her song:
Warm'd by illusive hope, consum'd her days,
Cheer'd in her aims by universal praise.
When anguish smote, she kiss'd th' afflictive rod,
Rapt with her faith, and given to her God!
She bade the streams of human kindness flow;
Her sympathy embrac'd another's woe:
No document, unknown to virtue, taught;
No system, unattach'd to honour, sought:
Array'd her deeds by the behest of peace,
And made the bosom's little tumults cease:
The fev'ring vanities of life withstood,
And own'd no greatness unallied to good.

ALLBRIGHTON, HROPSHIRE.
ON ANN GREEN,

Who died in 1762, aged 24.

BENEATH this stone now rests inshrin'd,
Alas! what once inclos'd the purest mind;
A virtuous soul, so free from every stain,
So try'd by fortune, and unmov'd by pain;
Without a groan with agonies she strove;
Heaven, wondering, snatch'd her to the joys above.

ON A SCHOOL MASTER.

READER! mark well thy accents, for thereby
Thou may'st the better note man's destiny;
Upon his birth we'll put an asper, then
On his most tender years we'll put a lene:
His youth and manhood an acute shall have,
Old age a circumflex, and death a grave.

ON ROBERT HUNTINGDON,

OF STANTON HARCOURT, ESQ.

AND ROBERT HIS SON.
By Congreve.

THIS peaceful tomb doth now contain
Father and son together laid;

Whose living virtues shall remain

When they and this are quite decay'd.
What man could be to ripeness grown,
And finish'd worth could do or shun,
At full was in the father shown,

What youth could promise in the son.
But Death obdurate both destroy'd
The perfect fruit and opening bud;
First seiz'd those sweets we had enjoy'd,
Then robb'd us of the coming good.

ST. MARY SAVIOURS.

HERE lyes WILLIAM EMERSON,
Who liv'd and dy'd an honest man.

UPON A PURITANICAL LOCK-SMITH.

XA ZEALOUS lock-smith dy'd of late,
And arriv'd at heaven's gate,

He stood without and would not knocke,
Because he meant to picke the locke.

ON JOHN WYNAL, ORGANIST.
MUSICIAN and logician eke,

WYNAL lo! JOHN lies here;
Who made the organs for to speak,
Just e'en as if it were.

ON THE HONOURABLE

LIEUTENANT-GENERAL LESLIE.

LAID is the noble LESLIE in this grave,
Lamented, honour'd, by the good and brave.
No angry passion e'er disturb'd his soul,
The tender parent shone in his control;
Lov'd and respected by his faithful band,
For the mild words still mix'd with his command.
In fields of danger steady and serene,

He view'd with sorrow the ensanguin'd scene;
Grieving that fellow subjects should prefer
To prosperous ease and peace, a causeless war.
To pardon ready, and to punish slow,
He wish'd the sword to spare the rebel foe.
From whom his love of mercy wrested praise,
Which crown'd his valour with the brightest rays.
His body now return'd to parent dust,
His soul assembles with the good and just.

ON CHRISTOPHER KELLY BELLEW, Esq.

OF BATH.

WHILE oft too partial, the sepulchral strain,
Flows a fond tribute to the great and vain,
Let Friendship's tear, the meed to Virtue pay,
Bellew thy life shall justify the lay.

In liberal views, and letter'd e

ease refin'd,
True to his God, his country, and his kind :
With zeal he sought what moral stores supplied,
And found philosophy to faith allied;

And though untimely Death's dire mandate came,
When rich in knowledge, and when ripe for fame,
From life's lov'd scene submissive he retir'd,
And with a Christian's calmest hope expir❜d.

ARE all diseases dead, or will death say
He might not kill this prince the common way?
It was even thus, and time with death conspir'd,
To make his death as was his life admir'd.
The commons were not summoned now I see,
Meerley to make lawes, but to mourne for thee:
No lesse then all the bishops might suffice
To wait upon so great a sacrifice.

The court the altar was, the waiters peeres,
The mirrhe and frankincense great Ceasar's tears.
A funerall for greater pomp and state,
Nor time, nor death, could ever celebrate

IN TETTENHALL CHURCH,

STAFFORDSHIRE.

HEERE lyes closyd in cley

The body of RICHARD WROTTYSLEY.
And also DOROTHY his wife,
Which lived together all their lyfe.
The year 1517 of our Lord
DOROTHY departed of this world;
And after, within short space,
RICHARD was lay'd in his place.
Here now our bodyes do lie;
On our souls Jhu have mercy.
We desire now every christen man
pray
for our soules that be gon.

Το

Who died August 17, 1702, aged 52 Years.

HERE in one grave more than one Grave lies;
Envious Death at last hath gain'd his prize;
No pills or potions here could make Death tarry,
Resolv'd he was to fetch away old Harry;
Ye foolish doctors! could you all miscarry.
Great were his actions on the boist'rous waves:
Resistless seas could never conquer Graves.
Ah! Colchester, lament his overthrow!
Unhappily you lost him at a blow.
Each marine hero for him shed a tear,
St. Margarets, too, in this must have a share.

1