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To the memory of MARGARET SCOTT, who died at Dalkeith, Edinburghshire ; in the year 1738. Stop, passenger,



The living may get knowledge by the dead.
Five times five years I liv'd a virgin's life;
Ten times five years I was a virtuous wife;
Ten times five years I liv’d a widow chaste;
Now wearied of this mortal life I rest.
Between my cradle and my grave have been
Eight mighty Kings of Scotland and a Queen ;
Four times five years the commonwealth I saw,
Ten times the subjects rose against the law;
Twice did I see old prelacy pull'd down,
And twice the cloak was humbled by the gown.
An end of Stuart's race I saw ; nay more,
My native country sold for English ore :
Such desolation in my life have been,
I bave an end of all perfection seen.

This epitaph either contains some notorious falsehood, or the woman was older than is here represented. We are informed she was five times five years a virgin, fifty years a wife, and as many a widow ; by which her age appears to have been 125.

If she was born in 1613, and died in 1738, which is the whole time allotted in the epitaph, she could only live in the reigns of James VI. -Charles I.-Charles II.-James II.-William III.- George I.-George II. and Queen Anne; which only make seven Kings and a Queen. But perhaps the epitaph maker, whom we imagine to have been a pedantic schoolmaster, was either a republican, who might place Oliver Cromwell in tbe list; or he might be a Jacobite, who reckoned the Preten

der one.


The epitaph likewise asserts that the commonwealth of England lasted 20 years, that is, from 1640 TO to 1660. That looks altogether like the blunder of a

Th country pedagogue. The epitaph maker did not con

Ma sider that no less than five governments took place

A during that period in Britain, viz. monarchcal or limit

W ed, as at present; parliamentary; a council of state,

Fo consisting of a junto of the parliament; a common

Co wealth ; and an absolute despotic one, under Crom

Ca well.

Sa Tro

Intended for MR. ROBERT FERGUSSON, the Scot-
tish Poet.
No sculptur'd marble here, nor pompous lay!

No storied urn, nor animated bust !
This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way,
To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust.


In St. Germain's Cathedral, Isle of Man.-SAMUEL RUTTER, Bishop of Sodor and Man, was buried under the uncovered steeple of his own Cathedral, with a Latin inscription on a brass plate, which in English is thus :

In this house, which I have borrowed of my brea thren the worms, do I lye, Samuel, by divine permis

. sion, Bishop of this Island, in hopes of the resurrection to life. Reader, stop, view the Lord Bishop's palace and smile. He died may 30th, 1662.


In East Hampstead, Berks ; on MR. ELIJAH FENTON. This modest stone, what few vain marbles can, May truly say, “ Here lies an honest man;" A poet, bless'd beyond a poet's fate, Whom Heav'n kept sacred from the proud and great: Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, Content with science in the vale of peace. Calmly he look’d on either life, and here Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear; From nature's temp'rate feast rose satisfied, Thank'd Heav'n that he had liv'd, and that he died.

POPE, 1730.


Underneath this marble hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sydney's sister, Pembroke's mother ;
Death, ere thou hast kili’d another
Learn'd, and fair, and good as she,
Time shall throw his dart at thee.


On Sir JOHN VANBURGH, the Poet and Architect.

Lie light upon him earth! tho' he
Laid many a heavy load on thee.


On SIR ISAAC Newton, born December 25tb, 1642; died 20th March, 1726. Approach, ye wise of soul with awe divine, 'Tis Newton's name that consecrates his sbrine ! That sun of knowledge whose meridian ray, Kindled the gloom of nature into day ! That soul of science, that unbounded mind! That genius which ennobled human kind ! Confess'd supreme of men, his country's pride; And half esteem'd an angel – till he died; Who in the eye of Heav'n like Enoch stood, And thro' the paths of knowledge walk'd with God; Whose fame extends a sea without a shore? Who but forsook one world to know the laws of more.

The following couplet was intended for his monument.

Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night :
God said, Let Newton be, and all was light.


In St. George's, Hanover-Square, on the Rev. LAWRENCE STERNE, A. M. died September 18, 1768 ; aged 53. Shall Pride a heap of sculptur'd marble raise, Some worthless unmourn'd titled fool to praise ; And shall we not by one poor grave-stone learn, Where genius, wit, and humour, sleep with Sterne?


At Stanton Harcourt, Oxon ; on the Hon. SIMON HARCOURT, only son of the Lord Chancellor Har. court, who died 1720.

To this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art ! draw near,
Here lies the friend most lov'd, the son most dear;
Who ne'er knew joy, but friendship might divide,

gave his father grief but when he died.
How vain is reason, eloquence how weak,
If Pope must tell what Harcourt cannot speak;
Oh let thy once-lov'd friend inscribe thy stone,
And with a father's sorrows mix his own.



Dear to the wise and good, disprais'd by none,
Here sleep in peace the father and the son.
By virtue as by nature close allied,
The painter's genius, but without the pride.
Worth unambitious, wit afraid to shine,
Honour's clear light, and friendship's warmth divine:
The son fair rising knew too short a date ;
But, oh ! how more severe a parent's fate !
He saw him torn untimely from his side,
Felt all a father's anguish, wept, and died.


Here lies my poor wife, without bed or blanket,
But dead as a door-nail, God be thanked !

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