Samuel Wesley (poet, died 1735)

"Beneath, a sleeping infant lies, To earth whose ashes lent, More glorious shall hereafter rise, Though not more innocent. When the arch-angel's trump shall blow, And souls and bodies join, What crowds will wish, their lives below Had been as short as thine!"

"Let sickness blast, and death devour, If heaven must recompense our pains Perish the grass, and fade the flower, If firm the word of God remains."