the last I cried,
But could not eat, and so I died.
My neighbours, they perhaps will laugh,
When they do read my epitaph.

CAIUS COLLEGE CHAPEL, A.D. 1613:—

On William Webbe.

A richer Webb than any art can weave,
The Soule that Faith to Christ makes firmly cleave.
This Webbe can Death, nor Devils, sunder nor untwist,
For Christ and Grace both groundwork are and List.

At CASTLE CAMPS the following quaint epitaph on a former rector:—

Mors mortis morti mortem nisi morte dedisset,
Æternæ Vitæ Janua clausa foret.

The translation is obviously,—

“Unless the Death of Death (Christ) had given death to death by his own death, the gate of eternal life had been closed.”

A poetic specimen of declension!

ST. ANDREW’S CHURCH, CAMBRIDGE.

An angel beckoned and her spirit flew,
But oh! her last look it cut our souls in two.

ST. MARY’S, CAMBRIDGE.

On John Foster, Esq. of that town.

Nomen, decus, Tellus meum,
   Quid referunt hæc ad te
Genus etiamque meum,
   Clarum quid aut humile?

Forsan omnes alios longè
   Ego antecellui,
Forsan cunctis aliis valdè
   (Nam quid tunc?) succubui.

Ut hoc tu vides tumulum
   Hospes certè satis est,
Ejus tu scis benè usum
   Tegit—“Nihil” interest.

Translation.

My name, my country, what are they to thee?
What, whether high or low, my pedigree?
Perhaps I surpassed by far all other men,
Perhaps I fell below them all, what then?
Suffice it, stranger, that thou seest a tomb,
Its use thou knowest; it hides—“no matter whom.”

CAMBRIDGE.

Here lies interred, beneath this stone,
The bones of a true hearty one,
Who lived well and died better,
And sings in Heaven Glory for ever.

ELY.

In the Cathedral is the following numerical curiosity:—

Human Redemption.

Nations make fun of his
Commands.
S. M. E.
Judgments begun on Earth.
In memory of
James Fountain,
Died August 21, 1767,
Aged 60 years.

Philippa Brown, died November 22nd, 1738, aged 63.

Here I lie, without the door,
The church is full, ’twill hold no more;
Here I lye, the less I pay,
And still I lie as warm as they.
When thou art dead, let this thy comfort be,
That all the world by turn, must follow thee.

On Luke Simon, died May 25, 1784, aged 63.

Man’s life’s a snare, a labyrinth of woe,
Which mortal men are doomed to struggle this;

To-day he’s great, to-morrow he’s undone,
And thus with hope and fear he travels on:
Till some disease, or else old age,
Calls us poor mortals trembling off the stage.

Cheshire.

Copied from the tombstone of Mr. Samuel Johnson, commonly called Maggoty Johnson, who was interred in a plantation or wood, belonging to the Earl of Harrington, in Gawsworth, near Macclesfield, Cheshire.

Under this stone

Rest the remains of Mr. Samuel Johnson, afterwards ennobled with the grander title of Lord Flame.  Who, after having been in his life distinct from other men by the eccentricities of his genius, chose to retain the same character after his death, and was, at his own desire, buried here, May 5th, 1773, aged 82 yrs.

Stay thou, whom chance directs, or ease persuades
To seek the quiet of these Sylvan shades;
Here, undisturb’d and hid from vulgar eyes,
A Wit, Musician, Poet, player lies;
A dancing master, too, in grace he shone,
And all the acts of Opera were his own;
In comedy well skill’d he drew Lord Flame,
Acted the part and gained himself the name.
Averse to strife, how oft he’d gravely say
These peaceful groves should shade his breathless clay;
That, when he rose again, laid here alone,
No friend and he should quarrel for a bone;
Thinking, that were some old lame Gossip nigh,
She possibly might take his leg or thigh.

PRESBURY.

Beneath this stône lyes Edward Green,
Who for cutting stône famous was seên.
But he was sênt to apprehend
One Joesph Clarke, of Kerredge End,
For stêaling Deer of Squire Dounes,
Where he was shôt, and died o’th wounds.

DAVENHAM.

On David Berkenhead.

A tailor by profession,
And in the practice, a plain and honest man.
He was a useful member of society;
For, though he picked holes in no man’s coat,
He was ever ready to repair
The mischief that others did.
And whatever breaches broke out in families,
He was the man to mend