Epitaph. Upon a Man, and His Wife

Stay, Bachelor ! if you have wit!
A wonder to behold!
Husband and Wife , in one dark pit,
Lye close, and never scold !

Tread softly though, — for fear she wakes ;
Hark! she begins , already?
You've hurt my head — my shoulder akes :
These sots can ne'er move steady.

Ah, friend , with happy freedom blest!
See! how my hope's miscarried!
Not death itself , can give you rest ,
Unless you die , unmarried .
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