On ---- More, of Norwich.
More had I once, More would I have;
More is not to be had.
The first I . . . the next is vaine;
The third is too too bad.
If I had us’d with more regard
The More that I did give,
I might have made More use and fruit
Of More while he did live.
THURLOW.
Here she lies, a pretty bud,
Lately made of flesh and blood;
Who as soon fell fast asleep
As her little eyes did peep.
Give her strewings, but not stir
The earth that lightly covers her.
LAVENHAM.
Quod fuit esse quod est, quod non fuit esse quod esse.
Esse quod est non esse, quod est non erit esse.
Translation.
What John Giles has been,
Is what he is (a batchelor);
What he has not been,
Is what he is (a corpse);
To be what he is
Is not to be (a living creature).
He will not have to be
What he is not (dust).
BURY.
Here lies Jane Kitchen, who, when her glass was spent,
Kickt up her heels, and away she went.