Or else thy foes may weepe, as then they did As when thou dyest, but all their teares were blood. O what a tempest, what a sea was forc't, Of tribute, groanes and teares, to waft one ghost. Thou quit's thy body to pursue thy chase. Bold tongue, touch not that head, that heart, that hand 17. On a Lyer. Good passenger! here lies one here, 18. On a Dyer. He lives with God, none can deny, 19. On a Fugler. Death came to see thy tricks, and cut in twain 20. On Mr. Fish. Worms bait for Fish, but here is a great change. 21. On a Child. A child and dead? alas! how could it come? 22. On Mr. Do. Do is my name, and here I lie, 23. On Taylor a Sergeant, kill'd by a Horse. 24. On Mr. Thomas Best. With happy starres he sure is blest, 25. On Robin. Round Robin's gone, and this grave doth inclose The pudding of his doublet and his hose. 26. On Bell the Tinker. Bell, though thou dy'dst decrepit, lame, forlorn, Thou was't a man of Mettle, I'll be sworn. 27. On proud Tygeras. Proud and foolish, so it came to passe, 28. On John Cofferer. Here lyes John Cofferer, and takes his rest, 29. On blind and deaf Dick Freeman. Here lyes Dick Freeman, That could not hear nor see man. 30. On a Miller. Death without warning was as bold as brief, When he killed two in one, Miller and Thief. 31. On a Lady. Here lyes one dead under this marble stone, Who when she liv'd, lay under more than one. 32. On a Wrestler. Death to the Wrestler gave a pretty fall, Tript up his heels, and took no hold at all. 33. On John Death. Here's Death interred, that liv'd by bread, 34. On an Infant. The reeling world turn'd Poet, made a Play; 35. On a little but very ingenious youth. Grim Death perceiving, he had far outran The elder youths, mistook him for a man. 36. On a Lady dying quickly after her Husband. He first deceased, she a little try'd To live without him, lik'd it not, and dy'd. 37. On Mr. Stone. Jerusalems curse is not fulfill'd in mee, For here a stone upon a stone you see. 38. On Mr. Strange. Here lies one Strange, no Pagan, Turk, nor Jew, It's strange, but not so strange as it is true. 39. A Fart's Epitaph. Reader, it was born, and cry'd, Crack'd so, smelt so, and so dy'd. 40. On Mr. Anguish a Scholler. Some do for anguish weep, for anger I, That ignorance should live, and art should die. 41. On a lovely young youth. From thy quick death; conclude we must, 42. On Mr. Thomas Allen. No Epitaphs need make the just man fam'd. Finis and Bonum are converted, so That every good thing to an end must go. 44. On a pious Benefactor. The Poor, the World, the Heavens, and the Grave, His Alms, his Praise, his Soul, and Body have. 45. On a Poet in prison. Though I in prison here do lye, My Muse shall live although I dye, 46. On a poor Poet. Here lies the Poet buried in the night, Whose purse, men know it, was exceeding light. |