That last one might be the best so far, Carol! Very funny! (Liked the one before that too.)
The following bit of doggerel isn't exactly an epitaph (unless it's an epitaph for aesthetic judgement), but maybe I can sneak it in here:
Footnote to a Nightingale:
Keats filled you in on leaden-eyed despairs
Fever, palsy and frets, but never said
How Vanity saves a few sad, long, grey hairs
And pastes them across the head.
[This message has been edited by ChrisW (edited May 22, 2001).]
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