'Tis not that I forget.

My lips can never break the spell;
Her name is buried here!
And yet perchance she may bedew
My coffin with a tear!
But if in climes away from her
The sun of life should set,
Her name will quiver on my lip,
When I the world forget.

Z.

* * * * *


EPITAPH IN AWLISCOMBE CHURCHYARD, DEVONSHIRE.


Here lie the remains of James Pady,
_brickmaker_, late of this parish, in hopes
that his _clay_ will be _remoulded_ in a workmanlike
manner, far superior to his former
perishable materials.

Keep death and judgment always in your _eye_,
Or else the devil off with you will fly,
And in his _kiln_ with brimstone ever fry.
If you neglect the narrow _road_ to seek,
Christ will reject you like a _half-burnt brick_.