| ORDER | PART | VERSE | CHARACTER | LINE | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 1 | 1 | POET | Ten in the hundred here lies engraved; A hundred to ten his soul is not saved. If anyone asks who lies in this tomb, "O ho", quoth the devil, "'tis my John Combe". | |
| 2 | 2 | 2 | POET | Howe'er he lived judge not John Combe shall never be forgot While poor hath memory, for he did gather, To make the poor his issue; he, their father, As record of his tilth and seed Did crown him in his latter deed. |