children.

If thou religious art that passest by
Stay and reade on; as thou art so was I:
If thou art blest with children, and dost crave
In God’s feare them trayned up to have
Reade on agayn, and to thyself thus tell
Here she doth lye that was my parallel;
Or art thou bounteous, hospitable, free,
Belov’d of all, and they beloved of thee;
Meeke, full of mercy, and soe truly good
As flesh can be, and spronge of gentle blood?
If thou art soe, to thine own dear selfe saye,
Who on her grave my monument did lay?
But if to these thou knowst thyselfe but chaffe,
Pass on thy waye, reade not my epitaphe.

Also Dorothy Nelson, wife of William Nelson, who died
1619, being of 86 years, and had issue 7 children.

It was not many years that made mee good,
Neither was it in the vigor of my blood;
For if soe then my goodness might have past,
And as I did, have ceast to be at laste.
But ’twas the grace my Maker did enshrine
In my meeke breast, which cleerely there did shine.
As my soul now amongst the chosen blest,
Under this stone although my bones doe rest.

PEWSEY.

Here lies the body
Lady O’Looney,
Great niece of Burke, commonly
called the Sublime.
      She was
Bland, passionate, and deeply religious;
Also she painted in water colours,
And sent several pictures to the Exhibition.
She was first cousin to Lady Jones.
And of such is the kingdom of heaven.

ALLWORTH CHAPEL, WINDSOR.

Here lies a modell of frail man,
A tender infant, but a span
In age or stature.  Here she must
Lengthen out both bedded in dust.
Nine moneths imprisoned in ye wombe,
Eight on earth’s surface free; ye tombe
Must now complete her diarie,
So leave her to aeternatie.

Buckinghamshire.

DATCHET.

epitaph on two sisters.

A tender mother, aunt, and friend,
They continued to their end.

HIGH WYCOMBE.

Death is a fisherman; the world we see
A fish-pond is, and we the fishes be;
He sometimes angles, like doth with us play,
And slily take us, one by one away.

IVER.

On William Hawkins.

Once at his death, and twice in wedlocke blest;
Thrice happy in his labour and his rest;
Espoused now to Christ, his head in life,
Being twice a husband, and in death a wife.

On a Lady.

Two happy days assigned are to men—
Of wedlocke and of death.  O happy then,
’Mongst women was she who is here interred,
Who lived out two, and, dying, had a third.

On Richard Carter.

An honest man, a friend sincere,
What more can be said?  He’s buried here.

FARNHAM.

A sudden death, a mind contented;
Living beloved, dead lamented.

WYCOMBE.

Here lies one, whose rest
Gives me a restless life;
Because I’ve lost a good
And virtous wyfe.

Cambridgeshire.

ALL SAINT’S CHURCH, CAMBRIDGE.

Epitaph of a Wine Merchant.

“In Obitum Mio Johannis Hammond Ænopolæ Epitaphium
“Spiritus ascendit generosi Nectaris astra,
“Juxta Altare Calex hic facet ecco sacrum
“Corporu αναδταδει cū fit Communia magna
“Unio tunc fuerit Nectaris et Calicis.”

SOHAM

Translation.

It consists of four lines, each of which contains five ambusses, or ten syllables (which is evident, from the rhyming) and therefore it should be read thus:—

To God, to Prince, Wife, Kindred, Friend, the Poor,
   Religious, Loyal, True, Kind, Stedfast, Dear.
In Zeal, Faith, Love, Blood, Amity, and Store,
   He hath so liv’d, and so Deceas’d, lies here.

The meaning appears to be, that the deceased was Religious to God, Loyal to his Prince, true to his Wife, Kind to his Kindred, Stedfast to his Friend, and Dear to the Poor; that he was endued with those qualities all his life, and died in the possession of them.—As to the Figures, most likely they were used to distinguish particularly the relation which a word in one line bore to that, which in another line had the same figure.

At BABRAHAM is this on Orazio Palovicini, who was the last deputed to this country to collect the Peter pence; but instead of returning to Rome, he divided the spoil with the Queen, and bought the estate at Babraham.

Here lies Orazio Palovicin,
Who robb’d the Pope to pay the Queen.
He was a thief.  A thief?  Thou liest!
For why?  He robbed but antichrist.

Him Death with besom swept from Babraham,
Unto the bosom of old Abraham;
Then came Hercules, with his club,
And knocked him down to Beelzebub.

ALL SAINTS’, CAMBRIDGE.

She took the cup of life to sip,
     Too bitter ’twas to drain;
She put it meekly from her lip,
     And went to sleep again.

At WOOD DITTON, on a gravestone in which is fixed an iron dish, according to the instructions of the deceased:—

On William Symons, ob. 1753, æt. 80.

Here lies my corpse, who was the man
That loved a sop in the dripping pan;
But now, believe me I am dead,
See here the pan stands at my head.
Still for sops to