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St. Botolph's, Lincoln.

Hic jacet Philippus Tylney, Canonicus et Refidentiarius Eccl. Cath. B. M. Lincoln. nuper Armiger, Filius Frederici Tylney, Arm. Filii. Philippi Tylney, Militis, &c. Maritatus Isabella, uni Filiarum Edmundi Thorp, de Appfwell Thorp, in Com. Norfolk. Militis,. et Johanna Dominæ de Scales, nuper Confortis ejufdem Edmundi. Qui obiit penultimo die Menfis Octobris, Anno Domini 1453, cujus animæ propitietur Deus, Amen; for Charity.

Paffed the Pilgrimage of this present Lyf

Refteth Sir Philip Tylney, clofed in your Sight;
In his Youth Efquier, and fo wedded to his wyf,
The Daughter and Heier of Edmund Thorp Knight,
And Awnt to Thomas Lord Scales difcended of Lyne
right,

Difpofed him after to God's Ordinaunce.
Full noble and liberal he was to every wight,
Couth none find in him matter of difpleafaunce.
Here he lyeth buryed Canon and Refidentiarie;
Sumtyme of Patrimony fufficient in Deed,

But Death that from her Nature cannot varie,
Hath ceafed him by Force, and we muft all fuc-
ceed.

Confider heer a Carrion worms to feed,

And pray for his Soule of Peyn to have a lyffe;
And doo for him, as thou woldeft he did at thy need.
Now, Jefu, for thy Paffion bring him to thy Blyffe.

*He was one of the Laity tir'd with the World, who after the Burial of his Wife took on him a religious Habit, and turned a Canon Secular.

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Shawborne, Berks.

Ætatis fuæ 74, 1630.

Mons fueram, vegeto dum mens in corpore manfit;
Mens abit ad Dominum, Mons abit in Cineres.
In Montem cineres, Domino redeunte, redibunt:
Expecto hoc oriens; hoc meditor moriens.

* Rolandus Hill, fenior morboque languidus, fed Fide fpeque fortis de meipfo fcripfi ac fepulcro infcribendum mandavi.

Vide Epitaph on Dr. Otwell Hill.

On Dr. Francis Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester. Who died in Exile at Paris, 1732.

[His only Daughter having expired in his Arms, immediately after the arrived in France to fee him.]

DIALOGUE.
She.

Yes, we have liv'd-one Pang, and then we part!
May Heav'n, dear Father! now have all thy Heart.
Yet ah! how once we lov'd, remember still,
Till you are Duft like me.

He.

Dear Shade! I will:

Then mix this Duft with thine-O fpotlefs Ghost!
O more than Fortune, Friends, or Country loft!
Is there on Earth one Care, one Wifh befide?
Yes-fave my Country, Heav'n!

He faid, and dy'd.

A. POPE.

Free

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Free from this Dream of Life, this Maze of Care,
Here refts the Lover and the Friend fincere,
Alive refpected, lov'd by all but one,
To him the fame as tho' belov'd by none.
This dearer one by cruel Slander ftrove

To wrong his Fame, as fhe had wrong'd his Love.
From her unkind Reproaches wounded more
Than all the giddy Turns of Chance before.
Thofe Arrows piercing in a well-known Part,
Fresh Wounds inflicted on a breaking Heart.
Death faw what Love, his faithful Slave had done,
And kindly finish'd what the Boy begun.

Mortlake, Surry.

J. D. COTTON.

Under this Stone are the Remains of
John Barber, Efq;

Alderman of London.

A conftant Benefactor to the Poor ;
True to his Principles in Church and State.
He preferved his Integrity, and difcharged the Duty
Of an upright Magiftrate
In the most corrupt Times.
Zealous for the Rights of his Fellow-Citizens,
He oppos'd all Attempts against them;
And, being Lord-Mayor of London,
In the Year 1733,

Was greatly inftrumental in defeating
A Scheme of a General Excife:
Which, (had it fucceeded)

Would have put an End to the Liberties of his Country.
He departed this Life Jan. 2d, 1740, Aged 65.

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Stanton Harcourt.

Near this Place lie the Bodies of
John Hewet and Mary Drew,
An induftrious young Man
And virtuous Maiden of this Parish ;
Who being at Harvest work
(With feveral others)

Were in one Inftant kill'd by Lightning
The last Day of July 1718.

Think not by rig'rous Judgment feiz'd,
A Pair fo faithful could expire;
Victims fo pure, Heaw'n faw well pleas'd,
And fnatch'd them in cæleftial Fire.

Live well, and fear no fudden Fate;
When God calls Virtue to the Grave,

Alike 'tis Juftice foon or late,

Mercy alike, to kill or fave.

Virtue unmov'd can hear the Call,
And face the Flash that melts the Ball,

This Epitaph was written by Mr. Pope, at the Requeft of Lord Harcourt, who placed the Stone over them.

On Mr. Aikman, and his Son, who were both interred in the fame Grave.

Dear to the wife and good, difprais'd by none,
Here fleep in Peace the Father and the Son.
By Virtue as by Nature clofe ally'd,

The Painter's Genius but without the Pride;

Worth.

Worth unambitious, Wit afraid to shine, Honour's clear Light, and Friendship's Warmth divine.

The Son fair rifing knew too short a Date;
But, oh! how more fevere the Parent's Fate!
He faw him torn untimely from his Side,
Felt all a Father's Anguifh, wept, and dy'd.

DAVID MALLET.

Aug. 9.

Natus 1631.

Westminster Abbey.
J. Dryden.

Mortuus Maji 1. 1700.

Johannes Sheffield

Dux Buckinghamienfis

Pofuit, 1720.

This plain Infcription is on a Tomb erected to his Memory by the Duke of Buckingham, on a Hint of Mr. Pope's in his Epitaph on Rowe :

Thy Reliques, Rowe, to this fad Shine we trust,
And facred, place by Dryden's awful Duft:
Beneath a rude and nameless Stone he lies,
To which thy Tomb fhall guide inquiring Eyes.
Peace to thy gentle Shade, and endless Reft!
Bleft in thy Genius, in thy Love too bleft!
One grateful IVoman to thy Fame Supplies
What a whole thankless Land to bis denies.

At first the two following Lines were intended:

This Sheffield rais'd! the facred Duft below
Was Dryden's

once The reft who does not know ?

I cannot

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