EPITAPH on a SEXTON

Here lies old HARE, Worn out with Care, Who whilom toll'd the Bell, Could dig a Grave, Or set a Stave, And say Amen full well.

For sacred Song, He'ad HOPKIN's Tongue, And STERNHOLD's eke also; With Cough and Hem, He stood by them, As far's his Word would go.

Full many a Feast, For Worms, he dress'd; Himself yet wanted Bread. But he is gone, With Skin and Bone, To Starve 'em now he's Dead.

Here, take his Spade, And use his Trade, Now he is out of Breath, Cover the Bones, Of him who once, Wrought Journey Work for DEATH.