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For though his body's under hatches,
His soul has gone aloft.
For though his body's under hatches,
His soul has gone aloft.
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.
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?
Farewell, vain world, I've had enough of thee,
And Valies't not what thou Can'st say of me;
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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.
Speme e Fortune, addio; che' in porto entrai.
Schernite gli altri; ch'io vi spregio omai.
Speme e Fortune, addio; che' in porto entrai.
Schernite gli altri; ch'io vi spregio omai.
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.
Here lies who, born a man, a grocer died.
[Fr., Ne homme--mort epicier.]
Here lies who, born a man, a grocer died.
[Fr., Ne homme--mort epicier.]
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.
And be the Spartan's epitaph on me--
"Sparta hath many a worthier son than he."
And be the Spartan's epitaph on me--
"Sparta hath many a worthier son than he."