Epitaphs, or, Church-yard gleanings, collected by Old Mortality, jun

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Page 170 - E'en while with us thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow. Dust to its narrow house beneath ! Soul to its place on high ! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die.
Page 12 - Dec. 11, 1756, immediately after leaving the King's Bench Prison by the benefit of the Act of Insolvency, in consequence of which he registered 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, Bestow'da kingdom, and denied him bread.
Page 174 - IN MEMORY OF ALEXANDER SELKIRK, MARINER, A native of Largo, in the county of Fife, Scotland, who lived on this island in complete solitude for four years and four months. He was landed from the Cinque Ports galley, 96 tons, 18 guns, AD 1704, and was taken off in the Duke, privateer, 12th February, 1709.
Page 105 - EPITAPH ON JOHN ADAMS, OF SOUTHWELL, A CARRIER, WHO DIED OF DRUNKENNESS. JOHN ADAMS lies here, of the parish of Southwell, A Carrier who carried his can to his mouth well : He carried so much, and he carried so fast, He could carry no more — so was carried at last ; For, the liquor he drank, being too much for one, He could not carry off, — so he's now carri-on.
Page 63 - While Butler, needy wretch, was yet alive. No generous patron would a dinner give : See him, when starved to death, and turned to dust, Presented with a monumental bust. The poet's fate is here in emblem shown : He asked for bread, and he received a stone.
Page 98 - Our life is but 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.
Page 117 - Regiment of Foot, In different parts of Europe, And in the year 1745, fought under the command Of the Duke of Cumberland, At the Battle of Fontenoy, Where she received a Bayonet Wound in her arm. Her long life, which commenced in the...
Page 33 - Our life is but 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 hia score who lingers out the day, Who goes the soonest has the least to pay.
Page 170 - Witty above her sexe, but that's not all, Wise to Salvation was good Mistris Hall, Something of Shakespere was in that, but this Wholy of him with whom she's now in blisse. Then, passenger, ha'st ne're a teare, To weepe with her that wept with all? That wept, yet set herselfe to chere, Them up with comforts cordiall. Her Love shall live, her mercy spread, When thou hast ne're a teare to shed.
Page 153 - God that lifts our comforts high, Or sinks them in the grave ; He gives, and, — blessed be his name ! He takes but what he gave.

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