For Michele and other interested parties, some 'wag' wrote this rather a long time ago, when burial grounds were 'dug up' for the sake of putting in a railway. A Moving Story Another place of worship's doomed, A meeting house of mark And one where Clarke, the parson was - Likewise the parson Clarke The railway wants for station room And so it comes to pass The Unitarian movement now Means moving off, alas! Nor is the chapel only doomed But graveyard too, 'tis said And Unitarian bodies must Move off both quick and dead Poor souls! that there were laid to sleep 'Mid tears of many weepers, Must now give up their places to Make room for other sleepers. The lordly towers of Lawrence there Now buried 'neath the clay The Websters, Bakers, Pembertons Must all be moved away. Dear husbands, sisters, children, wives, Who long in peace have lain, And cousins only once removed Must be moved again. When once the organ rolled and swelled Where rose the sweet-voiced choir The engine whistle now will sound Perhaps a trifle higher. Where once a curious service was Read out or sung in strains Another service now there'll be, A service of quick trains. 'Broad is the way' the preacher said. 'Beware its downward state' But broad this new way will not be, But rather narrow gauge. 'Straight is the road' the preacher said 'Avoid if you'd shun hell' But this new road will not be straight But curve into a tunnel. Farewell! dear dingy Meeting House I sigh, alas! to think That in the chain of history soon You'll be a missing link. One Meeting House went years ago And now we lose another, Gentility moved off the one, Utility the other. When I am gone take careful thought Where you will bury me, Don't stuff me, nor cremate me, nor Yet drop me in the sea. But try a plan that perhaps may bring Some solid consolation, Just plant me where a line may come, And get some compensation. Anon