There are many ways in which a man is like a watch, as this curious
epitaph shows, which can be seen in the churchyard at Lydford,
Devonshire, England:
Here lies in a horizontal position
The outside case of
George Routledge, watchmaker.
Integrity was the main-spring and prudence
the regulator of all the actions of his life;
Humane, generous and liberal,
His hand never stopt till he had relieved distress;
So nicely regulated were his movements that he never went wrong,
Except when set a-going by people who did not know his key;
Even then he was easily set right again.
He had the art of disposing of his time so well
That his hours glided away in one continued round of pleasure.
Till, in an unlucky moment, his pulse stopt beating.
He ran down Nov. 14, 1801, aged 57,
In hopes of being taken in hand by his Maker,
Thoroughly cleaned, repaired, wound up and set a-going,
In the world to come, when time shall be no more.
(1952)