BELBROUGTON
Richard Philpots.
To tell a merry or a wonderous tale
Over a chearful glass of nappy Ale,
In harmless mirth was his supreme delight,
To please his Guests or Friends by day or night;
But no fine tale, how well soever told,
Could make the tyrant Death his stroak withold;
That fatal Stroak has Laid him here in Dust,
To rise again once more with Joy we trust.
On the upper portion of this Christian monument are carved, in full relief, a punch-bowl, a flagon, and a bottle, emblems of the deceased’s faith, and of those pots which Mr. Philpots delighted to fill.
“Near to this is a fine tombstone to the memory of Paradise Buckler (who died in 1815), the daughter of a gipsy king. The pomp that attended her funeral is well remembered by many of the inhabitants. I have heard one of my relatives say that the gipsies borrowed from her a dozen of the finest damask napkins (for the coffin handles)—none but those of the very best quality being accepted for the purpose—and that they were duly returned, beautifully ‘got up’ and scented. The king and his family were encamped in a lane near to my relative’s house, and his daughter (a young girl of fifteen) died in the camp.
“C. Bede.”
Yorkshire.
LEEDS.
Under this stone do lie six children small,
Of John Wittington of the North Hall.
On a Learned Alderman.
Here lies William Curtis, late our Lord Mayor,
Who has left this here world, and is gone to that there.