EPITAPH.
The earth goeth on the earth,
Glist'ring like Gold;
The earth goes to the earth sooner than it wold.
The earth builds on the earth castles and towers;
The earth says to the earth, all shall be ours.
Here the contemplative wanderer may pass many an hour, with profit and pleasure,
"Mid epitaphs and tombs,
Wrapt in the dreams of other days."