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EPITAPH OF THE PRESENT YEAR ON THE MONUMENT OF THOMAS FULLER

A Lutheran stout, I hold for Goose-and-Gaundry Both the Pope's Limbo and his fiery Laundry: No wit e'er saw I in Original Sin, And no Sin find I in Original Wit; But if I'm all in the wrong, and, Grin for Grin, Scorch'd Souls must pay for each too lucky hit,-- Oh, Fuller! much I fear, so vast thy debt, Thou art not out of Purgatory yet; Tho' one, eight, three and three this year is reckon'd, And thou, I think, didst die sub Charles the Second.

Nov. 28, 1833.

Now first published from an MS.