Nottinghamshire.
ALVERTON.
Beneath the droppings of this spout, [80a]
Here lies the body once so stout,
Of Francis Thompson.
A soul this carcase long possess’d,
Which for its virtue was caress’d,
By all who knew the owner best.
The Rufford [80b] records can declare
His actions, who, for seventy year,
Both drew and drank its potent beer.
Fame mention not in all that time,
In this great Butler the least crime,
To stain his reputation.
To Envy’s self we now appeal,
If aught of fault she can reveal,
To make her declaration.
Then rest, good shade, nor hell nor vermin fear;
Thy virtues guard thy soul—thy body good strong beer.
He died July 6, 1739, aged 83.
NEWARK.
From earth my body first arose,
And now to earth again it goes:
I ne’er desire to have it more,
To tease me as it did before.
Northumberland.
NEWCASTLE.
Here lies poor Wallace,
The prince of good fellows,
Clerk of Allhallows,
And maker of bellows.
He bellows did make to the day of his death,
But he that made bellows could never make breath.
Here lies James, of tender affection,
Here lies Isabell, of sweet complexion,
Here lies Katheren, a pleasant child,
Here lies Mary, of all most mild,
Here lies Alexander, a babe most sweet,
Here lies Jannet, as the Lord saw meet.
ALNWICK.
Here lieth Martin Elphinston,
Who with his sword did cut in sun-
der the daughter of Sir Harry
Crispe, who did his daughter marry.
She was fat and fulsome;
But men will some-
times eat bacon with their bean,
And love the fat as well as lean.
TYNEMOUTH.
Wha lies here?
Pate Watt, gin ye speer.
Poor Pate! is that thou?
Ay, by my soul, is ’t;
But I’s dead now.
ILDERTON.
Under this stone lies Bobbity John,
Who, when alive, to the world was a wonder;
And would have been so yet, had not death in a fit,
Cut his soul and his body asunder.