A peerless matron, pride of female life, In every state, as widow, maid, or wife; Who, wedded to threescore, preserv'd her fame, She lived a phnix, and expired in flame.

ST. AUGUSTIN'S CHURCH.

William Lamb.

O Lamb of G.o.d which Sin didst take away, And as a Lamb was offered up for Sin.

Where I poor Lamb went from thy Flock astray, Yet thou, O Lord, vouchsafe thy Lamb to Winn Home to thy flock, and hold thy Lamb therein, That at the Day when Lambs and Goats shall sever, Of thy choice Lambs, Lamb may be one for ever.

TEMPLE CHURCH.

Mary Gaudy, Aged 22, 1671.

This fair young Virgin for a nuptial Bed More fit, is lodg'd (sad fate!) among the Dead, Storm'd by rough Winds, so falls in all her pride, The full blown rose design'd t' adorn a Bride.

KENSINGTON.

Here are deposited the remains of Mrs. Ann Floyer, the beloved wife of Mr. Rd Floyer, of Thistle Grove, in this parish, died on Thursday, the 8th of May, /23. G.o.d hath chosen her as a pattern for the other angels.

TEMPLE CHURCH.

Keep well this p.a.w.n, thou marble chest, Till it be called for, let it rest; For while this jewel here is set, The grave is but a cabinet.

STEPNEY.

My wife she's dead, and here she lies, There's n.o.body laughs, and n.o.body cries; Where she's gone, and how she fares, n.o.body knows, and n.o.body cares.

ST. DUNSTAN.

Here lies Dame Dorothy Peg, Who never had issue except in her leg, So great was her art, and so deep was her cunning, Whilst one leg stood still the other kept running.

CHISWICK.

The ill.u.s.trious Hogarth is buried in this churchyard, and the following lines, by David Garrick, are inscribed on his tomb:-

Farewell! great painter of mankind, Who reached the n.o.blest point of art, Whose pictur'd morals charm the mind, And through the eye correct the heart.

If genius fire thee, reader stay, If nature move thee, drop a tear, If neither touch thee, turn away, For Hogarth's _honour'd dust_ lies here.

ST. MICHAEL'S, CROOKED LANE,

Here lyeth, wrapt in clay, The body of William Wray; I have no more to say.

ST. ANNE'S, SOHO.

On Theodore, King of Corsica, written by Horace Walpole.

Near this place is interred.

Theodore, King of Corsica, Who died in this parish Dec. 11, 1756, Immediately after leaving the King's Bench prison, By the benefit of the Act of Insolvency, In consequence of which he resigned His Kingdom of Corsica For the use of his creditors.

The grave great teacher to a level brings Heroes and beggars, galley slaves and kings, But Theodore this moral learn'd ere dead, Fate pour'd its lessons on his living head, Bestowed a kingdom and denied him bread.

Monmouthshire.

CHEPSTOW.

Here or elsewhere (all's one to you or me), Earth, air, or water, gripes my ghostly dust, None knows how soon to be by fire set free; Reader, if you an old try'd rule will trust, You'll gladly do and suffer what you must.

My time was spent in serving you and you.

And death's my pay, it seems, and welcome too.

Revenge destroying but itself, while I To birds of prey leave my old cage and fly; Examples preach to the eye-care then (mine says) Not how you end, but how you spend your days.

For thirty years secluded from mankind, Here Marten lingered. Often have these walls Echoed his footsteps, as with even tread He paced around his prison. Not to him Did Nature's fair varieties exist, He never saw the sun's delightful beams, Save when through yon high bars he poured A sad and broken splendour.

In the pa.s.sage leading from the nave to the north aisle in this church, is interred the body of Henry Marten, one of the Judges who presided at the trial of Charles 1st with the following Epitaph over him, written by himself:-

Here Sept. 9th 1680, was buried A true born Englishman.