Horatio Edward Norfolk

“ Those who are living had much rather
Die with the Mother than live with the Father.
“The Body
of
Benjamin Franklin, Printer,
(like the cover of an old book,
its contents torn out,
and stripped of its lettering and gilding) ,
lies here, food for worms;
yet the work itself shall not be lost;
for it will, as he believed, appear once more
in a new and more beautiful edition,
corrected and amended
by
The Author!”
Singular Epitaph.
Careless and thoughtless all my life,
Stranger to every source of strife,
And deeming each grave sage a fool,
The law of nature was my rule. ”

“ On Shakspeare’s Monument are engraved the following distich and lines:—
“Judicio Pylium, genio Socratem, arte Maronem,
Terra tegit, populus mœret, Olympus habet.”
“Stay, passenger, why dost thou go so fast?
Read, if thou canst, what envious death hath placed
Within this monument; Shakspeare, with whom
Quick nature died; whose name doth deck the tomb
Far more than cost, since all that he hath writ
Leaves living art but page unto his wit.” ”

“ Thy wife doth consecrate; so sleep till then,
When all graves must open, all yield up their men.
NORWICH. Thomas Legge.
That love that living made us two but one,
Wishes at last we both may have this tomb. ”

“ On a Parish Clerk.
Here lies, within this tomb so calm,
Old Giles, pray sound his knell,
Who thought no song was like a psalm,
No music like a bell.
Here lies John Adams, who received a thump
Right in the forehead from the parish pump,
Which gave him his quietus in the end,
Tho’ many doctors did his case attend.
On Mr. Cumming.
“Give me the best of men,” said Death
To Nature—“quick, no humming,”
She sought the man who lies beneath,
And answered, “Death, he’s Cumming.” ”

“ Could make the tyrant Death his stroak withold;
That fatal Stroak has Laid him here in Dust,
To rise again once more with Joy we trust.
On the upper portion of this Christian monument are carved, in full relief, a punch-bowl, a flagon, and a bottle, emblems of the deceased’s faith, and of those pots which Mr. Philpots delighted to fill. ”

“ He durst not for his ears have touched the slut.
Here lies my wife a sad slattern and shrew,
If I said I regretted her—I should lie too.
On a Scold.
Here lies, thank God, a woman who
Quarrell’d and stormed her whole life through,
Tread gently o’er her mould’ring form,
Or else you’ll raise another storm.
On a Wife (by her Husband) .
Here lies my poor wife, much lamented,
She’s happy, and I’m contented.
One was our thought, One life we fought,
One rest we both intended,
Our bodies have to sleepe one grave,
Our soules to God ascended.
Conjugal Epitaph. ”

“ If any man ask, Who lies in this tomb?
Oh! oh! quoth the devil, ’tis my John-a-Combe.”
On Dr. Fuller.
Here lies Fuller’s earth.
On a Card-maker.
His card is cut; long days he shuffled through
The game of Life; he dealt as others do.
Though he by honours tells not its amount,
When the last trump is played his tricks will count. ”

“ AULIS-COMBE.
Here lie the remains of James Pady, Brickmaker, late of the parish, in hopes that his clay will be remoulded in a workmanlike manner, far superior to his former perishable materials.
Keep death and Judgement always in your eye,
Or else the devil off with you will fly,
And in his kiln with brimstone ever fry.
If you neglect the narrow road to seek,
Christ will reject you, like a half Burnt Brick.
p. 28MAKER. John Phillips, 1837.
Vain man, in health and strength do not confide,
This I enjoyed, yet in my bloom I died. ”

“ Here lieth the body of John Robyns, of this parish, buried the 27th day of December, 1724, about the 80th year of his age.
“Prosopeia Defuncti.”
“Mark thou that readest, and my case behold,
Ere long thou shalt be closed in death’s fold,
As well as I; nothing on earth can save
Our mortal bodies, from the darksome grave. ”

“ On Sir Francis Vere.
When Vere sought death, arm’d with his sword and shield,
Death was afraid to meet him in the field;
But when his weapons he had laid aside,
Death, like a coward, struck him, and he died.
ST. AGNES.
Here lies the body of Joan Carthew,
Born at St. Columb, died at St. Cue,
Children she had five,
Three are dead, and two alive,
Those that are dead chusing rather
To die with their Mother, than live with their Father.
GUNWALLOE.
Read backwards or forwards—
Shall we all die?
We shall die all.
All die shall we—
Die all we shall. ”

“ Mary Metcalf,
Where I was born, or when,
It matters not,—
To whom related, or
By whom begot.
John Robinson Hunter,
Aged 30.
He lived; and died
Unplaced, unpensioned—
No man’s heir
Or slave.
“Can the inhabitants of Ravenstonedale look at either of these monuments without blushing? Can the freeholders of that parish look at the latter, and not consider it prophetically as the voice of one speaking from the dead?” ”

“ John Linning, 1824.
Stop, reader! stop and view this stone,
And ponder well where I am gone.
Then, pondering, take thou home this rhyme—
The grave next opened may be thine.
Richard Snell, 1801.
At first I had a watery grave,
Now here on earth a place I have;
Wife and children don’t weep for me,
Fortune and Fate none can forsee.
CREDITON. On Eadulph, Bishop of Devon, ob. 932.
Sis testis Christe, quod non jacet hic lapis iste,
Corpus ut ornetur, sed spiritus ut memoretur.
Quisquis eris qui transiris, sta, perlege, plora;
Sum quod eris, fueramq; quod es; pro me precor ora. ”

“ For though he could do nothing, he meant to do the best,
Think of your soules, ye guilty throng,
Who, knowing what is right, do wrong.
On Mr. Sand.
Who would live by others’ breath?
Fame deceives the dead man’s trust. ”

“ Here lyeth the body of Samuel Wightwicke, Esqre. 1662.
Heaven only knowes the Blisse his soul inioyes,
Whil’s wee on earth seeke after fading toyes,
And doe not mind how saints and angells singe
To see him thron’d with his eternall king. ”

“ 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 nobody laughs, and nobody cries;
Where she’s gone, and how she fares,
Nobody knows, and nobody cares.
p. 70ST. 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 illustrious Hogarth is buried in this churchyard, and the following lines, by David Garrick, are inscribed on his tomb:—
Farewell! ”

“ Two widows, that were sisters-in-law, had each a son, who married each other’s mother, and by them had each a daughter. Suppose one widow’s name Mary, and her son’s name John, and the other widow’s name Sarah, and her son’s James; this answers the fourth line. Then suppose John married Sarah, and had a daughter by her, and James married Mary, and had a daughter also, these marriages answer the first, second, third, fifth, and sixth lines of the epitaph. ”

“ To trust a canting false dessenter,
Who died June 11th, in the 61st year of his age,
1756.
A friend of Daniel Knight (at whose instigation the above epitaph was engraved during his lifetime, and the future tombstone used as a cupboard door) prepared an inscription for his own tomb,—
“Here lies the body of Thomas Proctor
Who lived and died without a doctor.”
But fate, jealous of the reputation of the faculty, broke his leg, and compelled him to sacrifice to Æsculapius. ”

“ Rutlandshire. OAKHAM. John Spong, Jobbing Carpenter.
Who many a sturdy oak had lain along,
Fell’d by Death’s surer hatchet, here lies Spong,
Posts oft he made, but ne’er a place could get,
And liv’d by railing, though he was no wit:
Old saws he had, although no antiquarian,
And stiles corrected, yet was no grammarian.
Shropshire. SHREWSBURY. On an Old Maid.
Here lies the body of Martha Dias,
Who was always uneasy, and not over pious ”

“ Life’s span forbids us to extend our cares,
And stretch our hopes beyond our fleeting years.
Mary Farminger, my wife, from East Marsh place,
Lies mouldering here like me, in hopes of grace.
The following Epitaph is to be found in the parish church of Ightham, erected to Mrs. Selby of the Mote House, Ightham, who was a beautiful worker of Tapestry, whose death is said to have been caused from her pricking her finger when working one Sunday. There is a marble figure of her, holding a steel needle in her hand, and underneath is the following inscription ”

“ Though fewer had kill’d many more.
For him our own salt tears we quaff,
Whose virtues shall preserve him safe,
Beyond the power of epitaph.
Upon Two Religious Disputants,
Who are interred within a few paces of each other. ”

“ Underneath this stone doth lie,
As much beauty as could die;
Which, when alive, did vigour give
To as much beauty as could live.
To the memory of Mary Clow, &c.
A vertuous wife, a loving mother,
And one esteemed by all that knew her.
And to be short, to her praise, she was the woman that Solomon speaks of in the xxxi. chapter of the book of Proverbs, from the 10th verse to the end.
Old Epitaph. ”

“ When dust to dust is brought again,
The earth she hath her owne,—
This shall the lot of all men be,
Before the trumpe be blowne!”
April 17th, 1575.
WALTHAM ABBEY. To Sir Edward Denny.
“Learn, curious reader, ere thou pass,
That once Sir Edward Denny was
A courtier of the chamber,
A soldier of the fielde,—
Whose tongue could never flatter,
Whose heart could never yield!”
On a decayed monument in Horndon Church is the following inscription:—
“Take, gentle marble, to thy trust,
And keep unmixed this sacred dust—
Grow moist sometimes that I may see
Thou weep’st in sympathy with me ”

“ Elizabeth Farington, wife of John Farington, of the county of Nottingham. Twenty-five Knights were born in this family. 1738.
In Oxford born, in Lydford dust I lie,
Don’t break my grave until ye judgment day.
Then shall I rise, in shining glory bright,
To meet my Lord with comfort and delight.
BRENT-TOR. Wife of John Coleirm. 1694.
If thou be curious, friend, peruse this stone;
If thou be not soe, pray let it alone.
Against Death’s poison Virtue’s the best art,
When good men seem to die, they but depart.
Live well, then, all ”

“ A certain noble lord of no very moral life, dying, had inscribed upon his tomb, the phrase, “Ultima Domus,”—Collins, the poet, is said to have pencill’d those lines under the words:—
Did he who wrote upon this wall,
Believe or disbelieve St. Paul?
Who says where-er it is or stands,
There is another house not made with hands,
Or do we gather from these words,
That house is not a house of lords?
p. 97Here lies an old soldier whom all must applaud,
Who fought many battles at home and abroad ”

“ Under this stone lies Bobbity John,
Who, when alive, to the world was a wonder;
And would have been so yet, had not death in a fit,
Cut his soul and his body asunder.
Oxfordshire. WOLVERCOT. Fair Rosomond’s Tomb.
Rosomond was buried at Godstow, a small island formed by the divided stream of the Isis, in the parish of Wolvercot, near Oxford. The following quaint epitaph was inscribed upon her tomb:—
“Hic jacet in Thumba, Rosa Mundi, non Rosamunda,
Non redolet sed olet, quæ redolere solet.” ”

“ With Maud, my wife, to me full dere,
We lyved togeather fyfty-fyve yere.
What wee gave, wee have;
Whatt wee spent wee had;
What wee left, we loste.
WHITCHURCH. Richard Shortridge. 1831.
Hark! what is that noise so mournful and slow,
That sends on the winds the tickings of woe,
In sound like the knell of a spirit that’s fled,
And tells us, alas! a brother is dead?
Yes, gone to the grave is he whom we lov’d
And lifeless the form that manfully mov’d,
The clods of the valley encompass his head,
This tombstone reminds us our brother is dead.
p. 31Dorsetshire. WIMBORNE. John Penny. ”

“ A Gentleman of polite literature and elegant taste; an encourager of art and ingenious artists; a studious promoter of literary inquiries; a companion and friend p. 36of learned men; industriously versed in the science of antiquity; and richly possessed of the curious productions of Nature: but who modestly desired no other inscription on his tomb than what he had made the rule of his life ”

“ On John Death.
Here lies John Death, the very same
That went away with a cousin of his name.
p. 127Lord Coningsby. By Pope.
Here lies Lord Coningsby—be civil;
The rest God knows—perhaps the Devil.
On General Tulley.
Here lies General Tulley,
Aged 105 years fully;
Nine of his wives beside him doth lie,
And the tenth must lie here when she doth die.
A Bishop’s Epitaph.
In this house, which I have borrowed from my brethren worms, lie I, Samuel, by divine permission late Bishop of this Island, in hope of the resurrection to Eternal life. Reader, stop! ”

“ On the tomb of Edward Courtenay, third Earl of Devon, commonly called “the blind and good Earl,” an Epitaph, frequently quoted, appears. The Earl died in 1419, and his Countess was Maud, daughter of Lord Camoys.
Hoe! hoe! who lies here? ”

“ For here, with worms, lies Worme, a dish for worms.
Does worm eat Worme? sure Worme will this deny,
For Worme with worms, a dish for worms don’t lie.
’Tis so, and ’tis not so, for free from worms,
’Tis certain Worme is blest without his worms.
Jane Parker.
Heare lyeth a midwife brought to bed,
Deliveresse delivered;
Her body being churched here,
Her soule gives thanks in yonder sphere.
STAVERTON.
Here lies the body of Betty Bowden,
Who would live longer, but she couden;
Sorrow and grief made her decay,
Till her bad leg card her away. ”

“ 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. God hath chosen her as a pattern for the other angels. ”