In Rotherham churchyard the following is inscribed on a miller:--
In memory of EDWARD SWAIR, who departed this life, June 16, 1781.
Here lies a man which Farmers lov'd Who always to them constant proved; Dealt with freedom, Just and Fair-- An honest miller all declare.
On a Bristol baker we have the following:--
Here lies THO. TURAR, and MARY, his wife. He was twice Master of the Company of Bakers, and twice Churchwarden of this parish. He died March 6, 1654. She died May 8th, 1643.
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, Though set like dough, they shall be drawn like bread.
Here are some witty lines on a carpenter named John Spong, who died 1739, and is buried in Ockham churchyard:--
Who many a sturdy oak has laid along, Fell'd by Death's surer hatchet, here lies JOHN SPONG. Post oft he made, yet ne'er a place could get And lived by railing, tho' he was no wit. Old saws he had, although no antiquarian; And stiles corrected, yet was no grammarian. Long lived he Ockham's favourite architect, And lasting as his fame a tomb t' erect, In vain we seek an artist such as he, Whose pales and piles were for eternity.
On the tomb of an auctioneer in the churchyard at Corby, in the county of Lincoln, we have found:--
Beneath this stone, facetious wight Lies all that's left of Poor Joe Wright; Few heads with knowledge more informed, Few hearts with friendship better warmed; With ready wit and humour broad, He pleased the peasant, squire, and lord; Until grim death, with visage queer, Assumed Joe's trade of Auctioneer, Made him the Lot to _practise_ on, With "going, going," and anon He knocked him down to "Poor Joe's gone!"
In Wimbledon churchyard is the grave of John Martin, a natural son of Don John Emanuel, King of Portugal. He was sent to this country about the year 1712, to be out of the way of his friends, and after several changes of circumstances, ultimately became a gardener. It will be seen from the following epitaph that he won the esteem of his employers:--
To the memory of John Martin, gardener, a native of Portugal, who cultivated here, with industry and success, the same ground under three masters, forty years.