ON A YOUNG LADY.

By Richard Savage, Esq.

CLOS'D are those eyes that beam'd seraphic fire,
Cold is that breast which gave the world desire ;
Mute is the voice where winning softness warm'd,
Where music melted, and where wisdom charm'd :
And lively wit, which, decently confin'd,

No prude e'er thought impure, no friend unkind.
Cou'd' modest Knowledge, fair, untrifling youth,
Persuasive Reason, and endearing Truth;
Cou'd Honour, shown in Friendships most refin'd,
And Sense, that shields th' attempted virtuous mind;
The social Temper, never known to strife,
The height'ning Graces that embellish life;
Cou'd these have e'er the darts of Death defy'd,
Never-ah! never had Melinda dy’d!

Nor can she die-E'en now survives her name,
Immortaliz'd by Friendship, Love, and Fame.

BARKING, ESSEX.

ON THOMAS HUMPHREY,

Ob. February 17, 1765, Æ. 75, and
SARAH HIS WIFE,

Ob. September 24, 1757, Æ. 63.

ENOUGH, cold stone, suffice their long-lov'd name;
Words are too weak to pay their virtue's claim.
Temples, and tombs, and towers shall waste away,
And Power's vain pomp in mould'ring dust decay ;
But ere mankind do better parents see,
Eternity, O Time! shall bury thee.

!

HENRY MARTEN,

Lived to the advanced age of seventy-eight, and died by a stroke of apoplexy, which seized him while at dinner, in the twentieth year of his confinement.* He was buried in the chancel of the parish church at CHEPSTOW. His Epitaph, composed by himself, is in these words :

Here

September the 9th, in the year of our Lord 1680,
Was buryed a true Englishman;

Who in Barkshire was well known

To love his country's freedom, 'bove his own:
But living immured full twenty year,
Had time to write, as doth appear,
His epitaph.

Here or elsewhere (all's one to you, to me)
Earth, air, or water, gripes my ghostless dust.
N one knows how soon to be by fire sett free.
Reader, if you an oft tryed rule will trust,
You'll gladly do, and suffer what you must.

My life was spent with serving you, and you,
A nd death's my pay (it seems) and welcome too.
Revenge destroying but itself, while I

To birds of prey leave my old cage, and fly.
Examples preach to th' eye, care then (mine says)
Not how you end, but how you spend your dayes.

*He was one of the regicides in the time of Charles the First, and was found guilty, but his enmity to Cromwell, and surrender on the proclamation, were justly urged by his friends as motives for pardon; which he obtained, on condition of perpetual imprisonment. He was first confined in the Tower; but soon removed to the Castle of Chepstow, at which place he died.

Inscribed on a Pillar lately erected in the midst of a heap of stones, on the side of the highway in the North of England. By the Lord of the Manor.

STAY, Traveller, stay, and peruse a sad story;
For here I am set, as a Memento Mori;

To give the world notice, that under these stones,
Here lie the remains of one William Jones;
Who made, if the tale be as true as 'tis old,
Too much haste (alas!) to get rid of a scold.
One night, as he under her discipline lay,
Atoning for crimes of the foregoing day,
An unfortunate thought came into his head
To make his escape: so he rush'd out of bed,
And ran with all speed to the brink of yon delph,
From whence, leaping headlong, he brained himself.
This was, without question, his own act and deed,
And yet in their censures all are not agreed.
The law, it condemn'd him, you see here: but still
Some people applaud him: because, say they, Will
Chose rather to lie, for avoiding of strife,
Alone in a grave, than in bed with his wife:
Whilst others entitle him fool for his pains,
In dashing out's own, instead of her brains.

DUNDALK, IN IRELAND.

ON ROBERT MOORE.

HERE lies the body of Robert Moore,
What signifys more words?

Who kill'd himself by eating, of curds:
But if he had been rul'd by Sarah his wife,
He might have liv'd all the days of his life.

ST. FLAVIAN'S, BY MOUNT FIASCONE.

EST. EST. EST. PPR. NIUM. EST. HIC.

JO. DE. FLEC. D. MEUS, MORTUS. EST.

THIS is on the tomb of a German prelate, who was no enemy to the bottle; for in travelling it appears he always sent his steward forward to taste the wines of the several inns upon the road: if tole rably good the major-domo was to chalk upon the door, in capitals, the Latin word est (it is); if very good he was to write est, est, and the bishop had ever full reason to be content with his steward's superlative taste. Being arrived at Monte Fiascone, the steward found the Muscadel wine so delicious, that he did not scruple to triple the est, and the bishop so coincided in his taster's opinion, that, from an inordinate devotion to it, he died in a few days. He bequeathed 10,000 crowns to the hospital there, on condition that on Whitsunday they should an nually give, to all persons who might come for it, as much Muscadel wine and bread as they could eat and drink at a meal. There is a handsome monument, with a figure of the bishop, in his pontifical vestments, mitre, crosier, &c. and on each side of his effigies there are two escutcheons—and as many drinking glasses!

ON A YOUNG STUDENT IN OXFORD. SHORT was thy life,

Yet livest thou ever;
Death hath his due,
Yet dyest thou never.

IN HADLEIGH CHURCH, SUFFOLK.

To free me from domestic strife,

Death call'd at my house-but he spoke with my wife.
Susan, wife of David Patison, lies here,
October the 19th, 1706.

Stop, Reader! and if not in a hurry, shed a tear.

ON HENRY SMYTH, Esq.

Commonly known by the name of Dog Smyth.

IN Wandsworth church is an inscription to the memory of Henry Smyth, Esq. a senator (i. e. alderman) of London, who died January 3d, 1627, aged 79 years; who, while living, gave to the following towns in Surry (his native county) the sum of £. 1000 each, for the relief and setting the poor to work :

CROYDON, KINGSTON, GUILDFORD, DARKING, and FARNHAM. And at his death, for the same charitable purpose, gave to Richmond and Ryegate £. 1000 each; to Wandsworth, the place of his birth, .500. To redeem captives and prisoners from the Turkish tyranny £.1000, with the greatest part of his estate to different parishes in the same county, МІТСНАМЕХcepted, the reason of its exclusion seems to have been, that he was whipt in that town as a vagrant, by which it would appear that his parents were but of low and mean origin. By his habitation in Silver Street, London, many have thought him of that profession; but by an inscription in GREAT BOOKHAM CHURCHYARD, SURRY, he is called citizen and salter of