ON MRS. DEATH,

COMEDIAN, LATE OF THE NORWICH COMPANY.

HERE lies DEATH's wife: when this way next you tread,

Be not surpris'd should DEATH himself be dead.

ON THE REV. MR. G. WHITFIELD,
In his Chapel, in Tottenham Court Road.

HE, like his master, was by some despis'd,
Like him by many others lov'd and priz'd;
But theirs shall be the everlasting crown,
Not whom the world but Jesus Christ shall own.

INSCRIPTION

ON A TOMB-STONE, IN HERTFORDSHIRE.
ADJUDG'D to bliss, the saints shall rise,
To meet their Saviour in the skies, 1
And live where pleasure never dies.
Condemn'd, the sinners shrink to hell
The sad reverse consider well,

;

"With endless burnings who can dwell?”

ON MR. STRANGE.

HERE lies one Strange, no Pagan, Turk, nor Jew, 'Tis Strange, but not so strange as it is true. T

SOMERSETSHIRE.

ON A FREETHINKER AND GAMBLER.
HERE lies a sceptic long in doubt,
If death would kill the soul or not;
Death ends his doubtfulness at last,
Convinc'd-but oh! the die is cast.

IN ST. LAWRENCE'S CHURCH-YARD,

KENT.

THE grave is a refining pot,
Unto believers' eyes,

'Tis there the flesh will lose its dross,
And like the sun shall rise.

ON JOHN TAYLOR,

THE WATER POET.

HERE lies the water poet, honest John,
Who rowed on the streams of Helicon;
Where, having many rocks and dangers past,
He at the haven of heav'n arriv'd at last.

ON KITTY FISHER,

Who died soon after she was married.

SHE wedded-to live honest; but, when tried, Th' experiment she lik'd not-and so died.

WESTON FAVELL, NEAR NORTHAMPTON.

HERE lie the remains of the

REV. JAMES HERVEY, A. M.

Late rector of this parish, that very pious man, and much admired author, who died Dec. the 25th, 1758, in the 45th year of his age.

Reader, expect no more; to make him known Vain the fond elegy and figur'd stone:

A name more lasting shall his writings give, There view display'd his heavenly soul, and live.

ON JOHN UNDERWOOD.

Aн cruel death! that dost no good,
With thy destructive maggots;
Now thou hast cropt our UNDERWOOD,
What shall we do for faggots ?

ON A DRUNKARD.

BYBAX, the drunkard, while he liv'd, would say, The more I drink, the more methinks I may : But see how death hath prov'd his saying just, For he hath drunk himself as dry as dust.

HORNSEY CHURCH-YARD.

LOVELY in death, so on the verdant plain,
Falls the fair flow'ret overcharg'd with rain ; ̈`
Thus early, transient, pure as snow new driv'n,
"She sparkled, was exhal'd, and went to heav'n."

HORNSEY.

ON W. COX,

Who died of the small-pox.

In love I liv'd; in peace I died;
I strove to live, but God denied ;
Then the small-pox cost me my life;
Behind I have left my intended wife.
I am gone, in hopes my peace to find,
And left my dearest friends behind.

BERCHINTON CHURCH-YARD, IN KENT.

ON AN INFANT.

AH! why so soon, just as the bloom appears,
Drops the fair blossom in this vale of tears?
Death view'd the treasure to the desart giv'n,
And claim'd the right of planting it in heav'n.

ON GRAY, THE POET.

YE lovers, robb'd of all your souls held dear,
Ye maidens, sorrowing for your lovers true;
Ye orphans, weeping o'er your father's bier,
Now mourn for him, who best could mourn for
For here he lies, who knew, in tender strains,
To pour the artless, elegiac lay,
To lull your sorrows, and to sooth your pains,
Here lies the gen'rous, sympathetic Gray.

you.

RAMSGATE CHURCH-YARD.

PASSENGER pause!-permit a very stone to tell thee that the bloom of youth, fair prospects, and parental fondness cannot reverse the sentence:

To dust thou shalt return.

ON JOHN AND EDWARD TOPHAM.

READER, we from this monument may gather, JOHN TOPHAM was one EDWARD TOPHAM's father; And what's more strange, we find, upon this stone, That EDWARD TOPHAM was JOHN TOPHAM's son.

COVENTRY.

ON JOHN PYE, A FARMER.

HERE lies John Pye!

HERE lyes Jobson, the D's godson,

Who ne'er lov'd the poor :

He liv'd like a hog,

And dy'd like a dog,

And left what he had to a w—e.

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