On a bachelor:
At threescore winters' end I died,
A cheerless being, sole and sad;
The nuptial knot I never tied,
And wish my father never had.
✠
Here lies the body of Henry Round
Who went to sea and never was found.
✠
In Thetford Churchyard, Norfolk:
My grandfather was buried here,
My cousin Jane and two uncles dear;
My father perished with an inflammation in his thighs
And my sister dropped down dead in the Minories;
But the reason why I'm here interr'd, according to my thinking,
Is owing to my good living and hard drinking.
If, therefore, good Christians, you wish to live long,
Don't drink too much wine, brandy, gin, or anything strong.
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The celebrated Daniel Lambert's epitaph, St. Martin's, Stamford Baron, England: