A pleasing form; a firm, yet cautious mind; Sincere, though prudent; constant, yet resign'd: Honour unchanged, a principle profess'd, Fix'd to one side, but moderate to the rest:...
By playful smiles, (alas! too oft A sad heart's sunshine, by a soft And gentle nature, and a free Yet modest hand of charity, Through life was Owen Lloyd endeared To young and old; and how revered...
A poor old soldier shall not lie unknown, Without a verse, and this recording stone. 'Twas his in youth o'er distant lands to stray, Danger and death companions of his way....
Though once a puppy, and though Fop by name, Here moulders one whose bones some honour claim. No sycophant, although of spaniel race, And though no hound, a martyr to the chace'...
Lay down thy pilgrim staff upon this heap, And till the morning of redemption sleep, Old wayfarer of earth! From youth to age, Long, but not weary, was thy pilgrimage,...
Sacred To The Immortal Memory Of Sir Palmes Fairbone, Knight, Governor Of Tangier; In Execution Of Which Command, He Was Mortally Wounded By A Shot From The Moors, Then Besieging The Town, In The Forty-Sixth Year Of His Age. Oc...
Underneath this sable herse Lies the subject of all verse: Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother: Death, ere thou hast slain another, Fair and learn'd, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee....
The Lady Mary Villiers lies Under this stone; with weeping eyes The parents that first gave her birth, And their sad friends, laid her in earth. If any of them, Reader, were...
Fair, kind, and true, a treasure each alone, A wife, a mistress, and a friend in one, Rest in this tomb, raised at thy husband's cost, Here sadly summing what he had, and lost....
This rich marble doth inter The honoured wife of Winchester, A viscount's daughter, an earl's heir, Besides what her virtues fair Added to her noble birth, More than she could own from earth....
Beneath this verdant hillock lies Demar, the wealthy and the wise, His heirs,[1] that he might safely rest, Have put his carcass in a chest; The very chest in which, they say,...
No trust to metals nor to marbles, when These have their fate and wear away as men; Times, titles, trophies may be lost and spent, But virtue rears the eternal monument....
This Little, Silent, Gloomy Monument, Contains all that was sweet and innocent ; The softest pratler that e'er found a Tongue, His Voice was Musick and his Words a Song ;...
This tomb, inscrib'd to gentle Parnell's name, May speak our gratitude, but not his fame. What heart but feels his sweetly-moral lay, That leads to truth through pleasure's flowery way!...
Weep not, beloved Friends! nor let the air For me with sighs be troubled. Not from life Have I been taken; this is genuine life And this alone, the life which now I live...