Beaconsfield Church Yard, Buckinghamshire. (A translation.) EDMUND WALLER, To whom this marble is sacred, Was a native of Coleshill, and a student at Cambridge, His father was Robert; his mother of the Hampden family, He was born the 30th of March, 1605. His first wife was Anne, only daughter and heiress of Edward Banks. Twice made a father by his first wife, and thirteen times by his second, Whom he survived eight years, he died the 21st of October, 1687. Waller was the nephew of the great Hampden, and probably by his influence was returned member for Amersham before he was eighteen. In the early part of his political career he took a violent part against the king, so that he was chosen manager of the impeachment against judge Crawley, whose decision on the question of ship-money had been in favor of the king. Yet notwithstanding this two years after it was discovered that he had engaged in a conspiracy, the object of which was to "seize the Tower, and admit the Monarch's forces into the city; to surprise the militia and dissolve the parliament." His abject and cowardly confessions saved his life; and he was fined £10,000, when he withdrew to France, where his extravagance reduced him to distress. He now obtained permission of Cromwell to return to England, on whose conduct he wrote a panegyrick; but at the period of the restoration, he employed "his imagination, his elegance, and his melody, with equal alacrity for Charles II." "He that has flattery," says Dr. Johuson, " ready for all whom the vicissitudes of the world happen to exalt must be scorned as a prostituted mind, that may retain the glitter of wit but has lost the dignity of virtue." Towards the decline of life, he purchased a small estate at Coleshill, his natal spot, and said, he should be glad to die, like the stag, where he was roused. This, however, did not happen, for he drew his last breath at Beaconsfield. In the South aisle of Beaconsfield Church, Is a small and plain mural tablet of marble to record the memory of that great and resplendent genius Edmund Burke, who died at Butler's Court, in that parish. Near this place Lies interred All that was mortal of the Right honourable EDMUND BURKE, In the same grave are deposited The remains of His ony son, Richard Burke, esq. Representative in parliament For the borough of Malton, Who died on the 2nd of August, 1794, Of his brother, Richard Burke, esq. And recorder of the city of Bristol, Westminster Abbey. (A translation.) In certain hope of a resurrection in Christ, By queen Elizabeth created Clarenceux, king at arms. An indefatigable, judicious, and impartial Into the British antiquities. And the most candid simplicity, He died on the 9th of November, 1623, William Camden was born in London in the year 1551. He was appointed head master of Westminster school in 1593, and Clarenceux king at arms 1597--he was author of the celebrated work called Britannia, and died at Chislehurst in 1623. Camden was a man of singular modesty and integrity, profoundly learned in the history and antiquities of this kingdom, and a judicious and conscientious historian. It is by a mistake on his monument 74. Peterborough Cathedral. Here lyeth the body of JANE PARKER, She departed this life September 19th, 1653. Heare lyeth a midwife brought to bed, Her body being churched here, Beckenham, Kent. ON MRS. JANE CLERKE, Wife of Dr. Clerke, Physician, at Epsom, Surrey, who died 27th April, 1757. Lo! where this silent marble weeps, She felt the wound she left behind: Sits smiling on a father's woe; Whom what awaits, while yet he strays With life, with memory, and with love ON DR. THOMAS SHERIDAN, Died in the year 1738, in the 55th year of his age; Beneath this marble stone here lies Poor Tom, more merry much than wise; To spend his cash and lose his friends ; South Shields. ON RORIN PEMBERTON. Here lies Robin but not Robin Hood; On an Infant in Wisbech Church Yard. Beneath a sleeping infant lies, To earth her body's lent; More glorious she'll hereafter rise, Tho' not more innocent. And when the archangel's trump shall blow, And souls with bodies join, Millions shall wish their life below Had been as short as thine. |