robert donat - two epitaphs lyrics
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in paper case
hard by this place
dead a poor dormouse lies;
and soon or late
summoned by fate
each prince, each monarch dies
ye sons of verse
while i rehe+rs+
attend instructive rhyme;
no sins had dor
to answer for
repent of yours in time
beneath this hue, a shadow of shade
a little humble singing priest is laid
he loved his life, of death was not afraid
and loved his maker, though so strangely made
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