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Inn of a traveller on his way to Jerusalem.
Inn of a traveller on his way to Jerusalem.
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.
"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."
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.
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.]
May his body rest free from evil.
[Lat., Corpus requiescat a malis.]
May his body rest free from evil.
[Lat., Corpus requiescat a malis.]
For though his body's under hatches,
His soul has gone aloft.
For though his body's under hatches,
His soul has gone aloft.
Beneath these green trees rising to the skies,
The planter of them, Isaac Greentree, lies;
The time read more
Beneath these green trees rising to the skies,
The planter of them, Isaac Greentree, lies;
The time shall come when these green trees shall fall,
And Isaac Greentree rise above them all.
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.