University of Virginia Library

An Epitaph upon the Worthy and truly Vigilant, Sam. Micoe Esq

Here Honest Micoe lies, who never knew
Whether the Parish Clock went false or true.
A true bred English Gentleman, for he
Never demanded yet Quel heur est il?
He valued not the Rise of Sun or Moon,
Nor e'er distinguish'd yet their Night from Noon.
Untill at last by chance he clos'd his Eyes,
And Death did catch him napping by surprize.

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But first he thus spoke to the King of Fears,
Have I in Taverns spent my blooming years,
Outsate the Beadle nodding in his Chair,
Outwatch'd the Bulker and the Burglarer;
Outdrank all measure fill'd above the Seal,
When some weak Brethren to their Beds did reel;
And there when last nights Bottles were on board,
When Squires in Cloaks wrapt up in corners snoar'd;
I onely clad in my old Night Campain,
Call'd for more Wine and drank to 'em again?
Have I made Sir John Robinson to yield,
Sent haughty Langston staggering from the Field?
And unto meager Death now must I sink,
Death that eats all without a drop of Drink?
You steal my Life (grim Tyrant) 'cause you knew
Had I sate up I'd kill'd more men than you.

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Quoth surly Death, Statutum est, sic dico;
Sat vigilasti—Bonos Nochios Micoe.