SANDWICH.

Robert Needler.

My resting road is found Vain hope and hap adieu, Love whom you list Death hath me rid from you.

The Lord did me from _London_ bring, To lay my body close herein.

I was my father's only heir, And the first my mother bare.

But before one year was spent The Lord his messenger for me sent.

FOLKESTONE.

Rebecca Rogers.

A house she hath it's made of such good fashion, The tenant ne'er shall pay for reparation; Nor will her landlord ever raise her Rent, Or turn her out of doors for non-payment; From chimney money too this Cell is free, To such a house who would not tenant be.

Henry Jeffry, leaving 8 children.

A faithful friend, a father dear, A loving husband lieth here; My time is past, my gla.s.s is run, My children dear, prepare to come.

ELTHAM.

My wife lies here beneath Alas! from me she's flown, She was so good, that Death Would have her for his own.

Lancashire.

LIVERPOOL.

On John Scott, a Brewer.

Poor John Scott lies buried here, Tho' one he was both _stout_ and _hale_, Death stretched him on this _bitter bier_, In another world he _hops_ about.

MANCHESTER.

My death did come to pa.s.s, Thro' sitting on the derty gra.s.s; Here I lie where I fell, If you seek my soul go to h.e.l.l.

On a profligate Mathematician.

Here lies John Hill, A man of skill, His age was five times ten: He ne'er did good, Nor ever would, Had he lived as long again.

SOUTHWORTH.

The world is full of crooked streets, Death is a place where all men meets, If life were sold, that men might buy, The rich would live, the poor must die.

OLDHAM.

On Paul Fuller and Peter Potter, buried near each other.

'Tis held by Peter and by Paul, That when we fill our graves or urns, Ashes to ashes crumbling fall, And dust to dust once more returns.

So here a truth unmeant for mirth, Appears in monumental lay; Paul's grave is filled with Fuller's earth, And Peter's crammed with Potter's clay.

ROCHDALE.

Tim's Bobbin's Grave.

"Here lies John and with him Mary, Cheek by jowl and nevery vary; No wonder they so well agree, Tim wants no punch, and Moll no tea."

Leicestershire.

In Nichols's history of Leicestershire, is inserted the following Epitaph, to the memory of Theophilus Cave, who was buried in the chancel of the Church of Barrow-on-Soar:-

"Here in this Grave there lies a Cave, We call a Cave a Grave; If Cave be Grave, and Grave be Cave, Then reader, judge, I crave, Whether doth Cave here lie in Grave, Or Grave here lie in Cave: If Grave in Cave here buried lie, Then Grave where is thy victory?

Go, reader, and report here lies a Cave, Who conquers death, and buyes his own Cave."

MELTON MOWBRAY.