epitaph on john ranke
ae day, as death, that grue carl,
was drivg to the tither warl&039;
a ixtie—axtie otley sad,
and ony a guilt-bespotted d—
bck gowns of each denoation,
and thieves of every rank and station,
fro hi that wears the star and garter,
to hi that tles a halter:
ashad hiself to see the wretches,
he utters, glowr at the bitches,
“by god i&039;ll not be seen beht the,
nor &039;ang the sp&039;ritual re present the,
without, at least, ae honest an,
to grace this dan&039;d fernal cn!”
by adahill a gnce he threw,
“lord god!” h he, “i have it now;
there&039;s jt the an i want, i&039; faith!”
and ickly spit ranke&039;s breath
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