Painswick
My time was come! My days were spent!
I was called—and away I went!!!
Bristol
On Thos. Turar and Mary, his wife. He was Master of the Company of Bakers.
Like to the baker’s oven is the grave,
Wherein the bodyes of the faithful have
A setting in, and where they do remain,
In hopes to rise and to be drawn again;
Blessed are they who in the Lord are dead,
Tho’ set like dough they shall be drawn like bread!
Ye witty mortals! as you’re passing by,
Remark that near this monument doth lie,
Centered in dust,
Described thus:
Two Husbands, two Wives,
Two Sisters, two Brothers,
Two Fathers, a Son,
Two Daughters, two Mothers,
A Grandfather, a Grandmother, a Granddaughter,
An Uncle, and an Aunt—their Niece follow’d after!
This catalogue of persons mentioned here
Was only five, and all from incest free!
I went and ’listed in the Tenth Hussars,
And gallopped with them to the bloody wars;
“Die for your sovereign—for your country die!”
To earn such glory feeling rather shy,
Snug I slipped home. But death soon sent me off,
After a struggle with the hooping cough!
Here lies poor Charlotte,
Who died no harlot;
But in her virginity,
Of the age nineteen,
In this vicinity,
Rare to be found or seen.