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From Smithfield, Rhode Island, 1796:
While she was at a brook,
And where she did not like to go,
She from her friends was sudden took,
Seized with a fit she's subject to.
Her body in the water lay,
Her weeping husband found the same,
The means was used without delay
To call her back, but all in vain.
Her life to God she did resign,
And angels bore her soul away.
The grave her body now confines
Shall rise triumphant the last day.
[Epitaphs on Occupations.]
On an old woman who kept a pottery-shop in Chester, England:
Beneath these stones lies old Kathering Gray,
Changed from a busy life to lifeless clay;
By earth and clay she got her pelf,
But now is turned to earth herself.
Ye weeping friends, let me advise,
Abate your grief and dry your eyes,
For what avails a flood of tears?
Who knows but in a run of years,
In some tall pitcher or bread pan,
She in her shop may be again?
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