Poem
The Universal Epitaph
No flattering praises daub my stone,
My frailties and my faults to hide;
My faults and failings all are known—
I liv'd in sin—in sin I died.
And oh! condemn me not, I pray,
You who my sad confession view;
But ask your soul, if it can say,
That I'm a viler man than you.
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