Stranger! behold interr'd together The souls of learning and of leather. Poor Joe is gone, but left his awl-- You'll find his relics in a stall. His work was neat, and often found Well-stitched and with morocco bound. Tread lightly--where the bard is laid We cannot mend the shoe he made; Yet he is happy in his hole, With verse immortal as his sole. But still to business he held fast, And stuck to Phoebus to the last. Then who shall say so good a fellow Was only leather and prunella? For character--he did not lack it, And if he did--'twere shame to Black it! The following lines are on a cobbler:-- Death at a cobbler's door oft made a stand, But always found him on the mending hand; At length Death came, in very dirty weather, And ripp'd the soul from off the upper leather: The cobbler lost his all,--Death gave his last, And buried in oblivion all the past. Respecting Robert Gray, a correspondent writes: He was a native of Taunton, and at an early age he lost his parents, and went to London to seek his fortune. Here, as an errand boy, he behaved so well, that his master took him apprentice, and afterwards set him up in business, by which he made a large fortune. In his old age he retired from trade and returned to Taunton, where he founded a hospital. On his monument is the following inscription:-- Taunton bore him; London bred him; Piety train'd him; Virtue led him; Earth enrich'd him; Heaven possess'd him; Taunton bless'd him; London bless'd him: This thankful town, that mindful city, Share his piety and pity, What he gave, and how he gave it, Ask the poor, and you shall have it. Gentle reader, may Heaven strike Thy tender heart to do the like; And now thy eyes have read his story, Give him the praise, and God the glory. He died at the age of 65 years, in 1635. 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:--