Gleanings in Graveyards - LightNovelsOnl.com
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'Tis so, and 'tis not so, for free from worms, 'Tis certain Worme is blest without his worms.
Jane Parker.
Heare lyeth a midwife brought to bed, Deliveresse delivered; Her body being churched here, Her soule gives thanks in yonder sphere.
STAVERTON.
Here lies the body of Betty Bowden, Who would live longer, but she couden; Sorrow and grief made her decay, Till her bad leg card her away.
GAYTON.
William Houghton.
Neere fourscore years have I tarryed To this mother to be marryed; One wife I had, and children ten, G.o.d bless the living. Amen, Amen.
NORTHAMPTON.
Pray for me, old Thomas Dunn, But if you don't, 'tis all one.
Here lies the corpse of Susan Lee, Who died of heartfelt pain; Because she loved a faithless he, Who loved not her again.
Nottinghams.h.i.+re.
ALVERTON.
Beneath the droppings of this spout, {80a} Here lies the body once so stout, Of FRANCIS THOMPSON.
A soul this carcase long possess'd, Which for its virtue was caress'd, By all who knew the owner best.
The _Rufford_ {80b} records can declare His actions, who, for seventy year, Both drew and drank its potent beer.
Fame mention not in all that time, In this great Butler the least crime, To stain his reputation.
To Envy's self we now appeal, If aught of fault she can reveal, To make her declaration.
Then rest, good shade, nor h.e.l.l nor vermin fear; Thy virtues guard thy soul-thy body good strong beer.
He died July 6, 1739, aged 83.
NEWARK.
From earth my body first arose, And now to earth again it goes: I ne'er desire to have it more, To tease me as it did before.
Northumberland.
NEWCASTLE.
Here lies poor Wallace, The prince of good fellows, Clerk of Allhallows, And maker of bellows.
He bellows did make to the day of his death, But he that made bellows could never make breath.
Here lies James, of tender affection, Here lies Isabell, of sweet complexion, Here lies Katheren, a pleasant child, Here lies Mary, of all most mild, Here lies Alexander, a babe most sweet, Here lies Jannet, as the Lord saw meet.
ALNWICK.
Here lieth Martin Elphinston, Who with his sword did cut in sun- der the daughter of Sir Harry Crispe, who did his daughter marry.
She was fat and fulsome; But men will some- times eat bacon with their bean, And love the fat as well as lean.
TYNEMOUTH.
Wha lies here?
Pate Watt, gin ye speer.
Poor Pate! is that thou?
Ay, by my soul, is 't; But I's dead now.
ILDERTON.
Under this stone lies Bobbity John, Who, when alive, to the world was a wonder; And would have been so yet, had not death in a fit, Cut his soul and his body asunder.