Near this place are deposited the remains of Gedge, Printer, who established the first newspaper that has been published in this town. Like a worn out type, he is returned to the _founder_, in the hope of being recast in a better and more perfect mould. HADLEIGH. The charnel mounted on this w ) Sits to be seen in funer ) A matron plain, domestic ) In housewifery a princip ) In care and pains continu ) Not slow, nor gay, nor prodig ) all. Yet neighbourly and hospitab ) Her children seven yet living ) Her 67th year hence did c ) To rest her body natur ) In hope to rise spiritu ) * * * * * On little Stephen, a noted fiddler. Stephen and Time Are now both even; Stephen beat Time, Now Time beats Stephen. * * * * * Life is only pain below, When Christ appears, then up we go. IPSWICH. John Warner. I Warner once was to myself, Now Warning am to thee, Both living, dying, dead I was, See then thou warned be. * * * * * On ---- More, of Norwich. More had I once, More would I have; More is not to be had. The first I . . . the next is vaine; The third is too too bad. If I had us’d with more regard The More that I did give, I might have made More use and fruit Of More while he did live. THURLOW. Here she lies, a pretty bud, Lately made of flesh and blood; Who as soon fell fast asleep As her little eyes did peep. Give her strewings, but not stir The earth that lightly covers her. LAVENHAM. Quod fuit esse quod est, quod non fuit esse quod esse. Esse quod est non esse, quod est non erit esse. Translation. What John Giles has been, Is what he is (a batchelor); What he has not been, Is what he is (a corpse); To be what he is Is not to be (a living creature). He will not have to be What he is not (dust). BURY. Here lies Jane Kitchen, who, when her glass was spent, Kickt up her heels, and away she went. Surrey. BERMONDSEY. William Palin. Silent grave, to thee I trust This precious pearl of worthy dust. Keep it safe, O sacred tomb! Until a wife shall ask for room. WALWORTH. Here lies the wife of Roger Martin, She was a good wife to Roger—that’s sartain. OCKHAM. The Lord saw good, I was topping off wood, And down fell from the tree; I met with a check, and I broke my blessed neck, And so Death topped off me. WIMBLEDON.