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 Kind reader! take your choice to cry or laugh;
 Here Harod lies--but where's his Epitaph?
  If such read more 
 Kind reader! take your choice to cry or laugh;
 Here Harod lies--but where's his Epitaph?
  If such you seek, try Westminister, and view
   Ten thousand, just as fit for him as you. 
 A tomb now suffices him for whom the whole word was not 
sufficient.
 [Lat., Sufficit huic tumulus, cui read more 
 A tomb now suffices him for whom the whole word was not 
sufficient.
 [Lat., Sufficit huic tumulus, cui non suffecerit orbis.] 
 And the voice of men shall call,
 "He is fallen like us all,
  Though the weapon of read more 
 And the voice of men shall call,
 "He is fallen like us all,
  Though the weapon of the Lord was in his hand:"
   And thine epitaph shall be--
    "He was wretched ev'n as we;"
     And thy tomb may be unhonoured in the land. 
 Ecce quod expendi habui, quod donavi habeo, quod negavi punior, 
quod servavi perdidi.  
 Ecce quod expendi habui, quod donavi habeo, quod negavi punior, 
quod servavi perdidi. 
Inn of a traveller on his way to Jerusalem.
Inn of a traveller on his way to Jerusalem.
 Baths, wine and Venus bring decay to our bodies; but baths, wine 
and Venus make up life.
 [Lat., read more 
 Baths, wine and Venus bring decay to our bodies; but baths, wine 
and Venus make up life.
 [Lat., Balnea, vina, Venus corrumpunt corpora nostra;
  Sed vitam faciunt baldea, vina, Venus.] 
 "Let there be no inscription upon my tomb. Let no man write my 
epitaph. No man can write my read more 
 "Let there be no inscription upon my tomb. Let no man write my 
epitaph. No man can write my epitaph. I am here ready to die. 
I am not allowed to vindicate my character; and when I am 
prevented from vindicating myself, let no man dare calumniate me. 
Let my character and motives repose in obscurity and peace, till 
other times and other men can do them justice." 
 Loe here the precious dust is layd;
 Whose purely-temper'd clay was made
  So fine that it the read more 
 Loe here the precious dust is layd;
 Whose purely-temper'd clay was made
  So fine that it the guest betray'd.
   Else the soule grew so fast within,
    It broke the outward shall of sinne
     And so was hatch'd a cherubin. 
 Yet at the resurrection we shall see
 A fair edition, and of matchless worth,
  Free from erratas, read more 
 Yet at the resurrection we shall see
 A fair edition, and of matchless worth,
  Free from erratas, new in heaven set forth.