Quaint Epitaph (continued)
banished by [bay?] by Addison beloved. Esteemed by [bright?] by Pope himself [inspired?]. His spirit raised by [thoughts?] sublime. He [knew?] Hence to the seat of bright perspective flew, leaving to both [illegible] [betide?] here. A mournful hearth and never-ceasing tear. Epitaph on Thomas [Sispell?], in [illegible]. Naught cared this body for wind or weather. When youth and I lived in't together.
Memento Mory (in Limerick [illegible])
Here lieth little Samuel Barrington, that
just undertaken, of famous citys block and [grime?] maken; he made his one time [goe?] (?) early and later, but now he is returned to God his creator. The 19th of November then he [seest?]. And for his memory here is placed by his son Ben 1693.
(Satirical Epitaph by Dean Swift in St. Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin, on [Partridge?] the Alanac maker who died in [1708?]). Here, five feet deep, lies on his back . A cobbler, starmonger almanack; Who to the stars, in pure good will Does to his best look upward still, Weep, all ye customers, that use His pills, his almanack, or shoes; And you that did your fortune seek, Step to his grave but once a week This earth which bears his bodie's (?) [fruit?] You'll find has so much in't That I durst [pawn?] my ears, twill tell, Whatever concerns you [full?] as well, In physic, stolen goods or love, as he himself could, when above.
[in margin] Poverty is no disgrace. When Rome calls the world falls.
For he whom royal eyes disown When was his form to courtiers known?
One thing to know I dearly wish; Does fishing make men liars, Or do only liars fish?
In Erin old there lived a mighty race Taller than Roman spears.
"Stand upright,; speak thy thoughts, declare the truth thou hast, that all may hear; Be bold, proclaim it everywhere; They only live who dare."
Babes yet unborn will rue the day that the Isle of Man was sold away.
Put not your trust in princes.
Happy hearts and happy faces, Happy plays in grassy places, That is how, in ancient ages. Children grow to kings and sages.
Stand aside the traitor craven, Stand aside who scoff and sneer, stand aside the title-laden None but men can enter here; men of firm and true endeavour, Men who falter not nor fear.
The coward slave who quits his post, Let Argus eyes the traitor scan, And infamy eternal brand The anti-Irish Irishman.
[Whenever?] the proud was overthrown Where the murmuring Whenever Blackwater Divides us from County [Gone?]