ON OTTERY EAST HILL. 129 



The new alliance scarce congratulate, 



But she from him, them, all, was straight bereaved : 

 Slipping from bridal feast to funeral bere, 

 She soon fell sick, expired ; lies buried here. 



O Death, thou mightest have waited in the field 

 On murd'ring cannon, wounding sword and spear, 



Or there, where fearful passengers do yield 

 At every surge each blast of wind doth rear ; 



In stabbing taverns or infected towns, 



On loathsome prisons, or on princes' frowns. 



There not unlook't for many a one abides 



Thy direful summons ; but a nuptial feast 

 Needs not thy grim attendance ; maiden brides 



In strength and flower of age thou may'st let rest, 

 With wings so weak mortality doth fly, 

 In height of flight Death strikes ; we fall and dy." 



These fine verses may be compared with another epitaph 

 given in Prince's " Worthies of Devon." The gem must be 

 allowed to shine in Prince's own setting. One Edward Gee, 

 parson of St. Mary, Tedbourne, wrote the epitaph in memory 

 of his wife, Jane, who deceased September 2ist 1613 ; it may 

 still be seen, we believe, in that church. After lamenting in 

 lugubrious verse that he had never been enrolled in Hymenaeus's 

 books, &c., the disconsolate widower concludes 



' ' Thy features, O my Jane, out of my heart shall slide 

 When beasts from fields and fishes all out of the sea shall glide ; 

 Henceforth I will no more alight upon a fair green tree, 

 But as a turtle which hath lost his dear mate I will be." 



" Notwithstanding which resolution " (adds Prince), " 'tis 

 said he left behind him at his death, which happened about the 

 year of our Lord 1618, a widow named Mary to turtle it after 

 him, as he had done before." 



It is time, however, to return from these reminiscences of the 

 church, which from the top of the East Hill catches our atten- 

 tion, as the sun dwells on*its vane. The curious connection 



i 



