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

At Maidstone.

My life was short, as you may see,
I died at only twenty-three.
Now free from pain and grief I rest
I had a cancer in my breast;
The Doctors all their physic tried,
And thus by slow degrees I died!

Northampton.

Here lies the corpse of Susan Lee,
Who died of heartfelt pain,
Because she lov'd a faithless he,
Who lov'd not her again!
Pray for me, old Thomas Dunn,--
But if you don't,--'tis all one!

In Aberdeen, Scotland.

Here lies auld William Alderbroad.
Have mercy on his soul, Lord God,
As he would have were he Lord God,
And thou auld William Alderbroad!

Sir William Walworth, Lord Mayor of London
St. Michael's, Crooked Lane.
Hereunder lyth a man of fame,
William Walworth callyd by name;
Fishmonger he was in life time here,
And twice Lord Maior as in bookes appere,
Who with courage stout and manly might
Slew Wat Tyler, in King Richard's sight.
For which act done and trew intent,
The King made him a Knight incontinent,
And gave him armes, as heere you see,
To declare his fait and chivalrie.
He left this life the yere of our God,
Thirteene hundryd fourscore and three, odd.

William Wray.
In the same Church-yard.

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

Interchanging civilities, the party now separated, the collector to
resume his occupation, and the two friends their walk.

"Twenty-five quarto volumes," exclaimed the Squire, "and exclusively
filled with epitaphs; this fellow has set himself a task with a
vengeance!"

"And which," answered his friend, "he will never be able to accomplish;
however, the ambition of renown as a voluminous collector is the less
censurable, as being unattended by any of its too frequently pernicious
concomitants, and giving to others an acceptable and not irrational
employment; he is only blameable in the projected extent, not the nature
of his pursuit; a