* * * * * On a Cricketer. I _bowled_, I _struck_, I _caught_, I _stopt_, Sure life’s a game of cricket; I _block’d_ with care, with caution popp’d, Yet Death has hit my _wicket_. * * * * * On a Puritanical Locksmith. A zealous locksmith died of late, And did arrive at heaven gate; He stood without and would not knock, Because he meant to pick the lock. * * * * * On John Cole, Who died suddenly, while at dinner. Here lies Johnny Cole, Who died, on my soul, After eating a plentiful dinner. While chewing his crust, He was turned into dust, With his crimes undigested—poor sinner! * * * * * On Mr. Death, the Actor. Death levels all, both high and low, Without regard to stations; Yet why complain, If we are slain? For here lies one, at least, to show, He kills his own relations. * * * * * “The following reference to one departed Mr. Strange, of the legal profession, is rather complimentary; and I have only to hope that the fact of the case is as stated, and that the writer was not led away by the obvious opportunity of making a point, to exaggerate the virtues of the deceased. It looks a little suspicious.” (_Dickens_). “Here lies an honest lawyer, And that is Strange.” * * * * * “Dr. I. Letsome wrote the following epitaph for his own tombstone; but it is not likely that he allowed his friends, or at least his patients, to read it until he was under the turf, or out of practice:”— “When people’s ill, they comes to I, I physics, bleeds, and sweats ’em; Sometimes they live, sometimes they die; What’s that to I? I. Letsome.” (_lets ’em_.) * * * * * On Mr. Foot. Here lies one Foot, whose death may thousands save; For Death himself has now _one Foot_ i’ th’ grave. * * * * * On a Gentleman who expended his Fortune in Horse-racing. John ran so long, and ran so fast, No wonder he ran out at last; He ran in debt, and then to pay, He distanced all—and ran away. * * * * * On a Miser. They call’d thee rich, I deem’d thee poor, Since, if thou dar’dst not use thy store, But sav’d it only for thy heirs, The treasure was not thine—but theirs. * * * * *