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42

AN EPITAPH Upon E. T.

Reader, didst thou but know what sacred Dust
Thou tread'st upon, thou'dst judg thy self unjust
Shouldst thou neglect a showr of tears to pay,
To wash the Sin of thy own Feet away.
That Actor in the Play, who looking down
When he should cry, O Heav'n,—was thought a Clown,
And guilty of a Solœcism—might have
Applause for such an Action o're this Grave.
Here lies a piece of Heav'n, and Heav'n one day
Will send the best in Heav'n to fetch't away.
Truth is, this Lovely Virgin from her Birth
Became a constant strife 'twixt Heav'n and Earth:
Both claim'd her, pleaded for her; either cry'd,
The Child is mine; at length they did divide:
Heav'n took her Soul; The Earth her Corps did seize,
Yet not in Fee, she only holds by Lease;
With this Proviso—when the Judge shall call,
Earth shall give up her share, and Heav'n have all