For though his body's under hatches,
His soul has gone aloft.

For though his body's under hatches,
His soul has gone aloft.

For the Lord Jesus Christ's sake,
Do all the good you can,
To all the people you read more

For the Lord Jesus Christ's sake,
Do all the good you can,
To all the people you can,
In all the ways you can,
As long as ever you can.

If Paris that brief flight allow,
My humble tomb explore!
It bears: "Eternity, be thou
read more

If Paris that brief flight allow,
My humble tomb explore!
It bears: "Eternity, be thou
My refuge!" and no more.

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.

Farewell, vain world, I've had enough of thee,
And Valies't not what thou Can'st say of me;
read more

Farewell, vain world, I've had enough of thee,
And Valies't not what thou Can'st say of me;
Thy Smiles I count not, nor thy frowns I fear,
My days are past, my head lies quiet here.
What faults you saw in me take Care to shun,
Look but at home, enough is to be done.

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.

This comes of altering fundamental laws and overpersuading by his
landlord to take physic (of which he died) for read more

This comes of altering fundamental laws and overpersuading by his
landlord to take physic (of which he died) for the benefit of the
doctor--Stavo bene (was written on his monument) ma per star
meglio, sto qui.

Shrine of the mighty! can it be,
That this is all remains of thee?

Shrine of the mighty! can it be,
That this is all remains of thee?

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.