.

This epitaph might seem to be of the age of Chaucer, for it has the very
tone and manner of the Prioress's Tale.

The next opens with a thought somewhat interrupting that complacency and
gracious repose which the language and imagery of a church-yard tend to
diffuse, but the truth is weighty and will not be less acceptable for
the rudeness of the expression.

When the bells be mearely roung
And the Masse devoutly soung
And the meate merrely eaten
Then sall Robert Trappis his Wyffs and his Chyldren be
forgotten.
Wherfor Iesu that of Mary sproung
Set their soulys Thy Saynts among,
Though it be undeservyd on their syde
Yet good Lord let them evermor Thy mercy abyde!

It is well known how fond our ancestors were of a play upon the name of
the deceased when it admitted of a double sense. The following is an
instance of this propensity not idly indulged. It brings home a general
truth to the individual by the medium of a pun, which will be readily
pardoned for the sake of the image suggested by it, for the happy mood
of mind in which the epitaph is composed, for the beauty of the
language, and for the sweetness of the versification, which indeed, the
date considered, is not a little curious. It is upon a man whose name
was Palmer. I have modernized the spelling in order that its uncouthness
may not interrupt the Reader's gratification.

Palmers all our Fathers were
I a Palmer lived here
And travelled still till worn with age
I ended this world's pilgrimage,
On the blest Ascension-day
In the chearful month of May;
One thousand with four hundred seven,
And took my journey hence to heaven.

With this join the following, which was formerly to be seen upon a fair
marble under the portraiture of one of the abbots of St. Albans.

Hic quidem terra tegitur
Peccati solvens debitum
Cujus nomen non impositum
In libro vitae sit inscriptum.

The spirit of it may be thus given: 'Here lies, covered by the earth,
and paying his debt to sin, one whose name is not set forth: may it be
inscribed in the Book of Life!'

But these instances, of the humility, the pious faith and simplicity of
our forefathers, have led me from the scene of our contemplations--a
Country Church-yard! and from the memorials at this day commonly found
in it. I began with noticing such as might be wholly uninteresting from
the uniformity of the language which t