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In Anstruther Churchyard:

Oh Earth! oh Earth! if thou hast but

A rabbit-hole to spair,

Oh grant the graff to Tammy's corp,

That it may nestle thair:

And press thou light on him, now dead,
That was sae slim and wee,

For, weel I wat, when he was quick,
He lightly prest on thee!

On a Bell-ringer in Suffolk, Churchyard :—

In ringing ever from my youth

I always took delight.

My bell is rung and I am gone,
My soul has took its flight,

To join a choir of heavenly singing,

Which far excels the harmony of ringing.

In Kirk Braddon Churchyard, Isle of Man.

Here lies interred the Rev. P. Moore, forty years chaplain and schoolmaster in this parish; ob. 1783, æ. 77.

For ever may that man be blest
Who never will these bones molest,
But here for ever let them rest,

Till fire consume this earthly ball,
And Christ shall come to judge us all.

In Dinton Churchyard, Wilts :

Here lyes dear John, his parents' love and joy,
That most pretty and ingenious boy,
His matchless soul is not yet forgotten,
Though here the lovely body dead and rotten.
Ages to come may wonder at his fame,

And here his death by shameful malice came,
How spiteful some did use him, and how rude,
Grief will not let me write, but now conclude.
To God for ever all praise be given,
Since we hope he is with Him in Heaven.
J. A., ob. 23d Dec., 1716.

In Churchyard, Isle of Thanet:

Stop, hasty traveller, your rapid pace,

And learn you're hast'ning to this dreary place
Where silence reigns, till the last trump shall sound
To break your slumbers in this sacred ground;
Then young and old, and rich and poor must rise
Immortal beings, and stript of all disguise,
To hear the sentence which the Judge shall give.
Mark well this truth, and by His precepts live.

In St. Michael's Churchyard, Dumfries :

Here lyes William Welsh, Pentland Martyr for his adhering to the Word of God; and appearing for Christ's Kingly Government in His House, and the Covenanted work of Reformation, against Perjurie and Prelacie. Execute, Jan. 2, 1666 (7)—Rev. xii. II.

Stay, Passenger, Read,

Here interred Doth ly
A Witness 'Gainst poor
Scotland's Perjury,

Whose Head once Fixed upon

The Bridge-Post, Stood
Proclaiming Vengeance

For his Guiltles Blood.

On the tomb of Charles Lamb, at Edmonton Churchyard, Middle

sex:

To the memory of Charles Lamb, died 27th December1834, aged 59.
Farewell, dear friend-that smile, that harmless mirth

No more shall gladden our domestic hearth;
That rising tear, with pain forbid to flow,

Better than words, no more assuage our woe;

That hand outstretched, from small but well-earned store,

Yield succour to the destitute no more.

Yet art thou not all lost; through many an age,
With sterling sense and humour, shall thy page
Win many an English bosom, pleased to see
That old and happier vein revived in thee.
This for our earth. And if with friends we share
Our joys in heaven, we hope to meet thee there.

In Broughton Churchyard, Peeblesshire:

1768.

Man's life is ever on the wing,

And death is ever nigh.

The moment when our lives begin
We all begin to die.

Reader, awake, for death prepare,

Thou'lt be dust and lie.

One thing demands thy special care;
All else is vanity.

1840.

This lovely bud, so young and fair,
Called home by early doom;

Just come to show how sweet a flower

In Paradise should bloom.

In Wiltshire Churchyard:

Beneath this steane lyes our deare childe, who's gone from We,
For evermore unto eternity;

Where, us do hope, that we shall go to He,

But Him can ne'er come back again to We.

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Here lies the dust of John Fergushill and George Woodburn, who were shot at Midland by Nisbet and his party, 1685.

When bloody prelates, once this nation's pest,
Contrived that curs'd self-contradicting test,
These men for Christ did suffer martyrdom,
And here their dust lies waiting till he come.

Alex., s. of Wm. Benzie, farmer, Coldwells, d. 1834, a. 25 y. :--
Here with the aged lies a lovely boy,

His father's darling, and his mother's joy;
Yet Death, regardless of the parents' tears,
Snatch'd him away, while in the bloom of years.

In the Church of Cantley :

Here lieth ye body of Robert Gilbert

of Cantley in ye County of Norfolk, Gent.,
who died 5th day of October, 1714,
Aged 53 years.

In wise Frugality, LUXURIANT,

In Justice, and good acts, EXTRAVAGANT,
To all ye world a UNIVERSAL FRIEND.
No foe to any, but ye Savage Kind,

How many fair Estates have been Erased,
By ye same generous means, yt his Encreased.
His duty thus performed to Heaven and Earth,
Each leisure hour fresh toilsome Sport gave birth.
Had NIMROD seen, he would ye game decline,
To Gilbert mighty Hunter's name resign.

Tho' hundreds to ye ground he oft hath Chased,
That subtile FOX DEATH earthed him here at last,
And left a Fragrant Scent, so sweet behind,
That ought to be persued, by all mankind.

In Concord Churchyard, New Hampshire :

God wills us free; man wills us slaves;
I will as God wills; God's will be done.

Here lies the body of John Jack, a native of Africa, who died March 1773, aged about sixty years. Tho' born in a land of slaves, he was born free; tho' he lived in a land of liberty, he lived a Slave. Till by his honest though stolen labours he acquired the source of Slavery which gave him his freedom; tho' not long before Death, the grand tirant, gave him his final emancipation and set him on a footing with kings. Tho' a slave to vice, he practised those virtues without which kings are but slaves.

In Bromley Churchyard :

Blow, Borrious, Blow,

Let Neptun Billows Rore,

Heare lies a saylor, landid safe on shore.

Thou Neptune waves have torst Him too and fro
By gods degree He lies Ancored Hear Below.

Heare He lies Amist the fleat

Waiting orders admerral Christ to meat.

In Hendon Churchyard :

TO THE

MEMORY OF JOHN PELTRO.

LANDSCAPE ENGRAVER.

Died August the 5, 1808; Aged 48.
The hallow'd dead demands a tear
From all who hold sweet friendship dear;
The Man of Genius here enshrin'd

Wore GOD's pure image in his mind!
The labours of his now cold hand
Th' applause of millions could command!
In all his works the face of nature
Was drest with ev'ry witching feature!
Angels have borne him to the skies,
To bliss his happy spirit flies :
His works remain the Gems of Art;
His worth Engraved on many a heart!

In St. Michael's Churchyard, Workington :

Swift was the flight and short the road
She closed her eyes and saw her God.

In Dover Churchyard, New Hampshire (U.S):

:

Repository of Husband and Wife. Joseph Hartwell, inanimated Apr. 7. 1867, æt. 68. Betsy Hartwell, inanimated Dec. 7, 1862, æt. 68.

The following embraces a period of forty-one years: In all of our relations in life toward each other there has been naught but one continuation of fidelity and loving kindness. We have never participated nor countenanced in others, secretly or otherwise, that which was calculated to subjugate the masses of the people to the dictation of the few. And now we will return to our Common Mother, with our individualities in life unimpaired, to pass through together the ordeal of life's chemical laboratory preparatory to recuperation.

HER LAST EXCLAMATIONS :

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"If you should be taken away I could not survive you." happy we have lived together.' 'Oh, how you will miss me 'Think not, Mr. HARTWELL, I like you the less for being in the condition you are in. No, it only strengthens my affections. To those who have made professions of friendship, and have falsified them, PASS ON."

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