There is one Request however so
singular, that we cannot help taking some Notice of it in this Place;
which is, that of her giving so many Acres of Land to be planted
yearly with Potatoes, for all the Poor of any Parish who would come
and fetch them for the Use of their Families; but if any took them to
sell they were deprived of that Privilege ever after. And these Roots
were planted and raised from the Rent arising from a Farm which she
had assigned over for that purpose. In short, she was a Mother to the
Poor, a Physician to the Sick, and a Friend to all who were in
Distress. Her Life was the greatest Blessing, and her Death the
greatest Calamity that ever was felt in the Neighbourhood. A Monument,
but without Inscription, was erected to her Memory in the Church-yard,
over which the Poor as they pass weep continually, so that the Stone
is ever bathed in Tears.
On this Occasion the following Lines were spoken extempore by a young
Gentleman.
_How vain the Tears that fall from you,
And here supply the Place of Dew?
How vain to weep the happy Dead,
Who now to heavenly Realms are fled?
Repine no more, your Plaints forbear,
And all prepare to meet them there.
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