Brighton
His fate was hard, but God’s decree
Was, drown’d he should lie—in the sea.
Warwickshire
Birmingham
By a Lady on her Husband.
Oh! cruel death, how could you be so unkind,
To take him before, and leave me behind.
You should have taken both of us—if either,
Which would have been more pleasant to the survivor.
My time is out, my glass is run,
I never more shan’t see the sun;
To live for ever, no man don’t,
The Lord does not think fitting on’t.