Here lies Lord Coningsby—be civil;
The rest God knows—perhaps the Devil.
On General Tulley.
Here lies General Tulley,
Aged 105 years fully;
Nine of his wives beside him doth lie,
And the tenth must lie here when she doth die.
A Bishop’s Epitaph.
In this house, which I have borrowed from my brethren worms, lie I, Samuel, by divine permission late Bishop of this Island, in hope of the resurrection to Eternal life. Reader, stop! view the Lord Bishop’s palace, and smile.
On a Welchman,
Killed by a Fall from his Horse.
Here lies interr’d, beneath these stones,
David ap-Morgan, ap-Shenkin, ap-Jones;
Hur was born in Wales, hur was travell’d in France,
And hur went to heaven—by a bad mischance.
Card Table Epitaph on a Lady, whose Ruin and Death
were caused by gaming.
Clarissa reign’d the Queen of Hearts,
Like sparkling Diamonds were her eyes;
But through the Knave of Clubs, false arts,
Here bedded by a Spade she lies.