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Church of All Saints, Little Staughton

Church of England church buildings in BedfordshireGrade I listed churches in BedfordshireUse British English from February 2023
Little Staughton All Saints Church
Little Staughton All Saints Church

Church of All Saints is a Grade I listed church in Little Staughton, Bedfordshire, England. Originally known as the Church of St Margaret, it was largely built in the 15th century, with some earlier features. Much of the detail and many of the furnishings were destroyed during the reformation. The spire was damaged by lightning in 1900, and restored in 1910. The church became a listed building in 1964.

Excerpt from the Wikipedia article Church of All Saints, Little Staughton (License: CC BY-SA 3.0, Authors, Images).

Church of All Saints, Little Staughton
Church Lane,

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Geographical coordinates (GPS)

Latitude Longitude
N 52.254 ° E -0.3792 °
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Address

All Saints (Little Staughton Parish Church)

Church Lane
MK44 2BL , Little Staughton
England, United Kingdom
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Little Staughton All Saints Church
Little Staughton All Saints Church
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Church of St Denys, Colmworth
Church of St Denys, Colmworth

Church of St Denys is a Grade I listed church in Colmworth, Bedfordshire, England. It became a listed building on 13 July 1964.The four stage west tower is topped by an octagonal spire with lucarnes and is supported by diagonal buttresses. There is a ring of six bells with the earliest two dated 1635. The steel frame was made in 1984.To the left of the altar is an alabaster and black marble monument to Sir William Dyer erected in 1641 by his wife, Katherine Doyley Dyer (d. 1654). It has the following verse inscription: If a large hart, joined with a noble minde Shewing true worth unto all good inclin’d If faith in friendship, justice unto all, Leave such a memory as we may call Happy, thine is; then pious marble keepe His just fame waking, though his lov’d dust sleepe. And though death can devoure all that hath breath, And monuments them selves have had a death, Nature shan’t suffer this, to ruinate, Nor time demolish’t, nor an envious fate, Rais’d by a just hand, not vain glorious pride, Who’d be concealed, wer’t modesty to hide Such an affection did so long survive The object of ’t; yet lov’d it as alive. And this greate blessing to his name doth give To make it by his tombe, and issue live. My dearest dust, could not thy hasty day Afford thy drowsy patience leave to stay One hour longer, so that we might either Have sat up or gone to bed together? But since thy finished labour hath possessed Thy weary limbs with early rest, Enjoy it sweetly, and thy widow bride Shall soon repose her by thy slumbering side, Whose business now is only to prepare My nightly dress and call to prayer. Mine eyes wax heavy, and the day grows old, The dew falls thick, my blood grows cold, Draw, draw the closed curtains and make room, My dear, my dearest dust, I come, I come.