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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.
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.
Lie lightly on my ashes, gentle earthe.
Lie lightly on my ashes, gentle earthe.
"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.
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.
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.
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.
Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to Heaven read more
Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to Heaven conveyed,
And bade it blossom there.