Sir Thomas More’s first loving wife lies here
For Alice and myself this tomb I rear.
By Joan I had three daughters and one son
Before my prime or vig’rous strength was gone.
To them such love was Alice shown
In stepmothers, a virtue rarely known.
The world believed the children were her own
Such is Alicia, such Joanna was.
It’s hard to judge which was the happier choice:
If piety of Fate our prayers could grant,
To join us three, we should no blessings want.
One grave shall hold us, yet in heaven we’ll live.
And Death grants that which Life could never give.
Originally buried at Northaw, Hertfordshire, she was reinterred in the new chapel her husband had constructed in Chelsea Old Church.
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