epratte them
From ther desiered joye?

What comforte reste them then
To ease them of ther smarte,
But for to thincke and myndful bee
Of them they love in harte?

And eicke that they assured bee
Etche toe another in harte,
That nothinge shall them seperate
Untylle deathe doe them parte?

And thoughe the dystance of the place
Doe severe us in twayne,
Yet shall my harte thy harte imbrace
Tyll we doe meete agayne.

[Sidenote: THE SANGUINARY BUTCHER]

The church, the largest in Sussex, dominates Rye from every point, and
so tightly are the houses compressed that from the plain the spire seems
to be the completion not only of the church but of the town too. The
building stands in what is perhaps the quietest and quaintest church
square in England, possessing beyond all question the discreetest of
pawnbroker's shops, marked by three brass balls that positively have
charm. The church is cool and spacious, with noble plain windows (and
one very pretty little one by Burne-Jones), and some very interesting
architectural features. Too little care seems, however, to have been
spent upon it at some previous time. The verger shows with a pride
little short of proprietary a mahogany altar said to have been taken
from one of the vessels of the Armada (and therefore oddly inappropriate
for a Church of England service), and the tomb of one Alan Grebell, who,
happening one night in 1742 to be wearing the cloak of his
brother-in-law the Mayor, was killed in mistake for him by a "sanguinary
butcher" named Breeds. Breeds, who was hanged in chains for his crime,
remains perhaps the most famous figure in the history of Rye.

Externally Rye church is magnificent, but the pity of it is that its
encroaching square deprives one of the power to study it as a whole.
Among the details, however, are two admirable flying buttresses. The
clock over the beautiful north window, which is said to have been given
to the town by Queen Elizabeth, is remarkable for the two golden cherubs
that strike the hours, and the pendulum that swings in the central tower
of the church, very nigh the preacher's head.

[Sidenote: EIGHT BELLS]

Rye's eight bells bear the following inscription:--

To honour both of God and King
Our voices shall in concert ring.

May heaven increase their bounteous store
And bless their souls for evermore.

Whilst thus we join in joyf