Urith Leverington.
The night is come; for sleep, lo! here I stay,
My three sweet babes sleep here—we wait for day.
That we may rise, and up to bliss ascend,
Where crowns and thrones, and robes shall us attend.
Thy worst is past, O Death; thous’t done thy part,
Thou could’st but kill, we fear no second dart.
SWANTON MORLEY.
Thos Heming—Attorney.
Weep, widows, orphans; all your late support,
Himself is summon’d to a higher court:
Living he pleaded yours, but with this clause,
That Christ at death should only plead his cause.
COYSTWICK.
Mrs. Sarah Mills,
Mrs. Rebecca Ward.
Under this stone, in easy slumber lies
Two dusty bodies, that at last shall rise:
Their parted atoms shall again rejoin,
Be cast into new moulds by hands divine.
HENNINGHALL.
John Kett.