Here lies the body of John Bidwell,
Who, when in life, wished his neighbors no evil.
In hopes up to jump
When he hears the last trump
And triumph over Death and the Devil.
✠
Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can,
An abridgement of all that was pleasant in man.
—Goldsmith.
✠
Beneath this stone of granite hard
Lies my own beloved pard.
✠
ON A MR. PECK
Here lies a Peck, which some men say
Was first of all a Peck of clay;
This wrought with skill divine, while fresh,
Became a curious Peck of flesh.
Through various forms its Maker ran,
Then adding breath made Peck a man;
Full fifty years Peck felt life's troubles
Till death relieved a Peck of troubles;
Then fell poor Peck, as all things must.
And here he lies,—a Peck of dust.