Page 22 - Graveyard

20 | G r av e y ar d H u m o r

Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbeare
To dig the dust enclosed here.
Blessed be he that spares these stones,
And curst be he that moves my bones.

10. On a Country Sexton:—

Here lies old Hare, worn out with care,
Who whilom tolled the bell;
Could dig a grave, or set a stave,
And say Amen full well.
For sacred songs he’d Sternhold’s tongue,
And Hopkin’s eke also;
With cough and hem he stood by them,
As far as lungs would go.
Many a feast for worms he drest,
Himself then wanting bread;
But, lo! he’s gone, with skin and bone
To starve ‘em now he’s dead.
Here take his spade, and use his trade,
Since he is out of breath;
Cover the bones of him who once
Wrought journey-work for Death.

11. On a Baker:—

Richard Fuller lies buried here:
Do not withhold the crystal tear;
For when he lived he daily fed
Woman, and man, and child with bread,
But now, alas! he’s turn’d to dust,
As thou, and I, and all soon must;
And lies beneath this turf so green,
Where worms do daily feed on him.