_Cochineal red_, His lips have fled, Which now are _blue_ and _black_. Dear pretty wretch, How thy limbs _stretch_, Like _cloth upon_ the _rack_. _Repress_ thy sighs, The husband cries, My dear, and not repine, For ten to one, When God’s work’s done, He’ll _come off superfine_. Staffordshire. YOXHALL. On Anthony Cooke, who died on Easter Monday. At the due sacrifice of the Paschall Lambe, April had 8 days wept in showers, then came Leane, hungry death, who never pitty tooke, And cause the feast was ended, slew this Cooke. On Easter Monday, he lyves then noe day more, But sunk to rise with him that rose before; He’s here intomb’d; a man of virtue’s line Out reacht his yeares, yet they were seventy-nine. He left on earth ten children of eleven To keep his name, whilst himself went to heaven. BILSTON. In Mem. of Mary Maria, wife of Wm Dodd, who died Decr 12th, A.D. 1847, aged 27. Also of their children, Louisa, who died Decr 12th, 1847, aged 9 months; and Alfred, who died Jany 3rd, A. D. 1848, aged 2 years and 9 months. All victims to the neglect of sanitary regulation, and specially referred to in a recent lecture on Health in this town. And the Lord said to the angel that destroyed, it is enough, stay now thine hand.—1 Chron. xx. 17. * * * * * In Mem. of Joseph, son of Joseph and Mary Meek, who was accidentally drowned in the cistern of the day school adjoining this church, April 30th, 1845, aged 8 years. This distressing event is recorded by the minister, as an expression of sympathy with the parents, and caution to the children of the school—a reproof to the proprietors of the open wells, pits and landslips; the want of fencing about which is the frequent cause of similar disaster in these districts; and as a memento to all of the uncertainty of life, and the consequent necessity of immediate and continued preparation for death. * * * * * “And if any man ask you, Why do you loose him? Then shall ye say unto him, Because the Lord hath need of him.” {90}—Luke xix. 31. BUTTERTON. Near to this stone John Barnett lies, There’s no man frets, nor no man cries, Where he’s gone, or how he fares, There’s no man knows, nor no man cares. STAFFORD. Here Leah’s fruitfulness, Here Rachael’s beauty; Here lyeth Rebecca’s faith, Here Sarah’s duty. WOLSTANSTON. Ann Jennings. Some have children, some have none; Here lies the mother of twenty-one. LICHFIELD. Live well—die never; Die well—live for ever. Suffolk. BURY ST. EDMUNDS. The following whimsical epitaph appears upon a white marble slab, in a conspicuous part of the church of St. Mary:—