Goodness, Friendship, Wit, and Mirth,
All lie buried in this earth.
Sussex bore him, Cambridge bred,
Steeple Ashton holds him dead.
Stranger, if you more would know
Of the man that sleeps below,
And study all his gracious parts
As they're graven on our hearts,
Humbly tread the path he trod,
And see him where he is with God.