Thy movements, Isaac, kept in play, Thy wheels of life felt no decay For fifty years at least; Till, by some sudden, secret stroke, The balance or the mainspring broke, And all the movements ceas’d. SHIFFNALL. August 7th, 1714, Mary, the wife of Joseph Yates, of Lizard Common, within the parish, was buried, aged 127 years. She walked to London just after the Fire, in 1666; was hearty and strong at 120 years; and married a third husband at 92. CEUN. Charles Dike. Joyous his birth, wealth o’er his cradle shone, Gen’rous he prov’d, far was his bounty known; Men, horses, hounds were feasted at his hall, There strangers found a welcome bed and stall; Quick distant idlers answered to his horn, And all was gladness in the sportsman’s morn. But evening came, and colder blew the gale, Means, overdone, had now begun to fail; His wine was finished, and he ceas’d to brew, And fickle friends now hid them from his view. Unknown, neglected, pin’d the man of worth, Death his best friend, his resting-place the Earth. * * * * * The following is copied from a head-stone, set up in the churchyard of High Ercall. Those who are fond of the sublime, will certainly rejoice over this precious poetical morsel:— Salop, Oct. 1797. ELIZABETH the Wife Of RICHARD BAARLAMB, passed to Eternity on Sunday, the 21st of May, 1797, in the 71st year of her age. When terrestrial all in Chaos shall Exhibit effervescence, Then Celestial virtues in their most Refulgent Brilliant essence, Shall with beaming Beauteous Radiance, thro’ the ebullition Shine; Transcending to Glorious Regions Beatifical, Sublime. CHURCH STRETTON. On a Thursday she was born, On a Thursday made a bride, On a Thursday put to bed, On a Thursday broke her leg, and On a Thursday died. Somersetshire. BARWICK. Sarah Higmore, æt. 6. Ye modern fair, who’er you be, This Truth we can aver: A lesson of humility You all may learn from her. She had what none of you can boast, With all your Wit and Sense— She had what you, alas! have lost, And that was—Innocence. TAUNTON. James Waters. Death, traversing the western road, And asking where true merit lay, Made in this town a short abode, And took this worthy man away. YEOVIL. John Webb, Son of John and Mary Webb, Clothiers, who died of the measles, May 3d, 1646, aged 3 years. How still he lies! And clos’d his eyes, That shone as bright as day! The cruel measles, Like _clothier’s teasels_, Have scratched his life away.