Gleanings in Graveyards Part 22

HADDISCOE.

William Salter.

Here lies Will Salter, honest man, Deny it, Envy, if you can; True to his business and his trust, Always punctual, always just; His horses, could they speak, would tell They loved their good old master well.

His up-hill work is chiefly done, His stage is ended, race is run; One journey is remaining still, To climb up Sion's holy hill.

And now his faults are all forgiven, Elijah-like, drives up to heaven, Takes the reward of all his pains, And leaves to other hands the reins.

HUNSTANTON.

I am not dead, but sleepeth here, And when the trumpet sound I will appear.

Four b.a.l.l.s through me pierced their way, Hard it was, I had no time to pray.

The stone that here you do see My comrades erected for the sake of me.

BURCH HEGGIN.

Acrostic Epitaph on Robert Porter, a noted miser.

R iches and wealth I now despise, O nce the delight of heart and eyes; B ut since I've known the vile deceit, E nvy has met its own defeat.

R egardless of such empty toys, T ell all to seek for heavenly joys.

P ull'd down by age and anxious cares, O ppressed am I by dismal fears, R elating to my future state, T o know what then will be my fate.

E ternal G.o.d! to Thee I pray R emove these fearful doubts away.

SWAFFHAM.

On a Lawyer.

Here lieth one, believe it if you can, Who tho' an attorney was an honest man, The gates of heaven shall open wide, But will be shut against all the tribe beside.

THETFORD.

My grandfather was buried here, My cousin Jane, and two uncles dear; My father perished with a mortification in his thighs, My sister dropped down dead in the Minories.

But the reason why I am here, according to my thinking, Is owing to my good living and hard drinking, Therefore good Christians, if you'd wish to live long, Beware of drinking brandy, gin, or anything strong.

LODDON.

When on this spot, affection's down-cast eye The lucid tribute shall no more bestow; When Friendship's breast no more shall heave a sigh, In kind remembrance of the dust below;

Should the rude s.e.xton, digging near this tomb, A place of rest for others to prepare, The vault beneath, to violate, presume, May some opposing Christian cry, "Forbear-

"Forbear, rash mortal, as thou hop'st to rest, When death shall lodge thee in thy destin'd bed, With ruthless spade, unkindly to molest The peaceful slumbers of the kindred dead!"

GILLINGHAM.

On an Actor.

"Sacred to the memory of THOMAS JACKSON, Comedian, who was engaged December 21st, 1741, to play a comic cast of characters in this great theatre, the world, for many of which he was prompted by nature to excel-The season being ended-his benefit over-the charges all paid, and his account closed, he made his exit in the tragedy of Death, on the 17th of March, 1798, in full a.s.surance of being called once more to rehearsal, and where he hopes to find his forfeits all cleared, his cast of parts bettered, and his situation made agreeable by Him who paid the great stock debt, for the love He bore to performers in general."

LYNN.

William Scrivener, Cook to the Corporation.

Alas! alas! _Will Scriviner's_ dead, who by his art Could make death's skeleton edible in each part; Mourn, squeamish stomachs, and ye curious palates, You've lost your dainty dishes and your salades; Mourn for yourselves, but not for him i' th' least, He's gone to taste of a more Heav'nly feast.

Northamptonshire.

BARNWELL.

An Innkeeper.

Man's life is like a winter's day, Some only breakfast and away; Others to dinner stay and are full fed, The oldest man but sups and goes to bed; Large is his debt who lingers out the day, Who goes the soonest has the least to pay; Death is the waiter, some few run on tick, And some, alas! must pay the bill to Nick!

Tho' I owe'd much, I hope long trust is given, And truly mean to pay all debts in Heaven.

PETERBOROUGH.

Sir Richard Worme.

Does worm eat Worm? Knight Worme this truth confirms, For here, with worms, lies Worme, a dish for worms.

Does worm eat Worme? sure Worme will this deny, For Worme with worms, a dish for worms don't lie.