EPITAPHS.
[To THE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR."] SIR,—Talking of epitaphs, if any of your readers should be passing the very picturesque church of Godshill, in the Isle of Wight, they will find a rich crop of inscriptions in the church- yard. There must have been a local poet, supra grammaticam, for the epitaphs are peculiar to the parish, and so is the grammar. The following I copied in 1851 :— " The Pains once bore, it is all o'er, On earth did undergo :
When Death did pass, I found no more, Nor shall for ever know."
The next, on Mary Reynolds, is a later work, copied in 1878 :— " A sudden death it was my lot, Was seen by mortal eyes : May not my children be forgot, Now I'm in brighter skies. On earth I labour'd tho' in Pain A living for to have :
A slave in time I did remain From School unto the grave. But now on earth my glass is ran, My hardest labour it is done."
One more, a specimen of poetry almost unique, on Eliza Cole:— " In the various stations of life
She shone with peculiar lustre,
As a dutiful child, a sincere friend,
An affectionate wife, a valued sister."
—I am, Sir, &c.,
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