BOBBING.
God gave me at Kinardington in Kent,
My native breath, which now alas is spent,
My parents gave me Tylden Smith for name,
I to the Park farm in this Parish came;
And there for many ling’ring years did dwell,
Whilst my good neighbours did respect me well.
But now my friends, I go by Nature’s call,
In humble hopes my crimes will measure small.
Years following years steal something every day,
And lastly steal us from ourselves away.
Life’s span forbids us to extend our cares,
And stretch our hopes beyond our fleeting years.
Mary Farminger, my wife, from East Marsh place,
Lies mouldering here like me, in hopes of grace.
The following Epitaph is to be found in the parish church of Ightham, erected to Mrs. Selby of the Mote House, Ightham, who was a beautiful worker of Tapestry, whose death is said to have been caused from her pricking her finger when working one Sunday. There is a marble figure of her, holding a steel needle in her hand, and underneath is the following inscription:—
She was a Dorcas,
Whose Curious needle turned the abused stage
Of this lov’d world, into the goldenage,
Whose pen of steele, and silken inck unroll’d
The acts of Jonah in records of gold,
Whose art disclosed that Plot, which had it taken,
Rome had tryumphed, and Britains wall had shaken.
She Was
In heart a Lydia, and in tongue a Hanna,
In zeale a Ruth, in wedlock a Susanna,
Prudently simple, providently wary,
To the world a Martha, and to Heaven a Mary.
Died 1641
STAPLEHURST.
Here lyeth the Body of Mary the daughter of Wm Maiss & Mary his Wife, who died Sept. 9, 1703, aged 22 years.
Here lyes a piece of Heaven, t’others above,
Which shortly goes up to the World of Love,
The Brightest Sweetest Angels must convey
This spotless Virgin on the starry way;
That glittering quire sings but a lisping song,
Till she appears amidst the shining throng.
SANDWICH.
Robert Needler.
My resting road is found
Vain hope and hap adieu,
Love whom you list
Death hath me rid from you.
The Lord did me from London bring,
To lay my body close herein.
I was my father’s only heir,
And the first my mother bare.
But before one year was spent
The Lord his messenger for me sent.