EPITAPH ON SIR GEORGE SPEKE.

Under this stone lies virtue, youth, Unblemish'd probity, and truth, Just unto all relations known, A worthy patriot, pious son; Whom neighb'ring towns so often sent To give their sense in Parliament; With lives and fortunes trusting one Who so discreetly used his own. Sober he was, wise, temperate, 9 Contented with an old estate, Which no foul avarice did increase, Nor wanton luxury make less. While yet but young his father died, And left him to a happy guide; Not Lemuel's mother with more care Did counsel or instruct her heir, Or teach with more success her son The vices of the time to shun. An heiress she; while yet alive, All that was hers to him did give; 20 And he just gratitude did show To one that had obliged him so; Nothing too much for her he thought, By whom he was so bred and taught. So (early made that path to tread, Which did his youth to honour lead) His short life did a pattern give How neighbours, husbands, friends, should live.

The virtues of a private life Exceed the glorious noise and strife 30 Of battles won; in those we find The solid int'rest of mankind.

Approved by all, and loved so well, Though young, like fruit that's ripe, he fell.