Quaint Epitaphs

precentor to My Lord the King

When he is admitted to the choir of angels whose society he will embellish and where he will distinguish himself by his powers of song—God shall say to the angels—

Cease ye calves! and let me hear
John Quebecca, the precentor of
My Lord the King.

St. Botolph's.

A traveller lies here at rest
Who life's rough ocean tossed on.
His many virtues all expressed
Thus simply—"I'm from Boston."

St. Clair, Canada.

On a brickmaker

Keep death and judgment always in your eye
Or else the devil off with you will fly
And in his kiln with burning brimstone ever fry.
If you neglect the narrow road to seek
Christ will respect you like a half burned brick.

Patrick Bay, Innholder

Killed by an ignorant Physician.
Not Fate or Death but doctor Rowe
Advanced to give the deadly blow
That smote me to the shades below.
Had Death alone approached too nigh,
Had Fate or Nature bid me die,
I must have borne it patiently.

But to be robbed of life and ease
By such infernal quacks as these
And pay, beside their modest fees!
Now folks that travel by this way,
Pointing toward my tomb shall say,
"There lies the bones of Patrick Bay—
Who ne'er a cheerful glass denied,
All force of arms, and grog defied,
Yet by a vile Jack Pudding died."

John Scott

Brewer

Poor John Scott is buried here
Tho' once he was both hale and stout.
Death stretched him on his bitter bier,
In another world he hops about.

Received of Philip Harding

his borrowed earth July 4th 1673

The Duke of Norfolk, a great whist player

(By Sheridan.)

Here lies England's premier baron,
Patiently awaiting the last trump.

Here lies a Cardinal who wrought
Both good and evil in his time.
The good he did was good for naught
Not so the evil—that was prime.

Elihu Yale, the founder of Yale College at New Haven, lies buried in Wrenham, Wales. His monument bears this inscription:

Born in America, in Europe bred
In Africa traveled in Asia wed,
Where long he lived and thrived
And at London died.
Much good, some ill he did so hope all's even
And his soul through mercy is gone to Heaven.
You that survive and read this tale take care,
For this most certain event to prepare;
Where blest in peace the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in the silent dust.