Amwell

Mourn not for me my wife and children dear

I am not dead but slumber here

It was by a fatal Jam at Ware Mill I fell Alas

I never spoke nor did my secrets reveal.

Amwell

Tho' boistrous winds and Neptune's waves

Have toss/d me to and fro

In spite of all by God's decree

I harbour here below

Where I now at an anchor ride

With many of our fleet

Yet once again I must set sail

Our admiral Christ to meet.

Amwell

That which a being was, what is it I shew

That being which it was, it is not now.

To be what 'tis is not to be you see,

And what now is not shall a being be.

Weston

JAMES TITMUSS. OB. 1794­

A industrious man I have been

And in this world have done my best

I hope in Heaven my soule may rest.

Hunsdon

THOMAS KING. OB. 1735

Here lies Tom King old Dad of fame

Who knew his Gun and eke his Game

The fact whereof both Ball's and Luton

Now can fully prove the truth on

He loved his Bottle and his Friend

Which he enjoy'd unto his End

He Dy'd at last alas poor Tom!

Behold at last his Slab and Tomb.

Hunsdon

JOHN LANE. OB. 1763

A prisoner in Hopes

John Lane, a very old servant

Let me Rest

1763

Faithful to Men

But a great Sinner to my God.

Wheathamstead

THOMAS NASH. OB. 1797

Here lyeth one that had several Brothers

And he was kind unto some others

Part of his wealth he gave away,

And for his cloaths his Brothers this Rail do pay.

Yardley

When this you see remember me

And think now I am gone,

You may walk out and seek about

And not find such a one.

Stevenage

CHARLES STEWART. OB. 1796

Adieu vain world I've seen Enough of Thee

And am careless what thou Canst say of me

What Faults you have seen in me Take care to shun

And look at home enough There's to be done.

Hitchin

JOSEPH ABBOT, OB. 1802

A plain upright man without Guile or Pride

Goodness his aim and Honesty his Guide

Could all the pomps of this vain world despise

And only after death desir'd to rise.

Bengeo

ANN BOWLES, OB. 1770

Here I lies sleeping in the dust

Until the Resurrection of the Just

Waiting the Voice of Christ to say

Arise my Saint and come away.

Stanstead

HENRY GRAVES, OB. 1702

Here lies in one grave more than one Grave;

Envious Death at last has gained his Prize;

No Pills or Potions here could make him tarry,

Resolv'd he was to fetch away old Harry.

You foolish Doctors could you all miscarry!

Great were his actions on the tempestuous waves,

Resistless seas could never conquer Graves.

At Colchester he met this overthrow,

Unhappily you lost him at a blow;

Each marine hero shed for him a tear

St Margret's now in him must have a share.

Cheshunt

WILLIAM WILLIAMS. OB. 1782

In silence here beneath a youth is laid

By whom the sports of nature were survey'd

With ravished breast o'er meads he did pursue

The started hare which o'er the landskip flew

By which pursuit his heart oprest with heat

Plung'd in the stream which nature thought so sweet

But now the stream a change to nature gave

And plung'd this youth deep in the silent grave.

St Albans Abbey

Lo in this Inn of Travellers doth lie

One rich for nothing but a memory

His name was Sir John Mandevile content

Having seen much with a small continent

Towards which he travell'd ever since his birth

And at last pawn'd his Body for the earth

Which by a statute must in mortgage be

Till a Redeemer come to set it free.