[John Whitworth]

Since the Speccie is no good for our purposes this week, here is a little time-waster. No prizes this side of the grave. Write an epitaph to yourself. This was inspired by Herrick's, to be found in Gail White's post on the 'Brief Candles' thread. Make it wider. Write an epitaph.

Hewre's John Gay's epitaph to himself. (Gay wrote 'The Beggar's Opera)

Life is a jest, and all thingsshow it;
I thought so once, but now I know it.

And Wliiam Blake's (A dyke here is a stream and not a wall).

I was buried nearthis dyke,
That my friends may weep as much as they like.

And here is one that many people know but (perhaps) s0me do not.

EPITAPH FROM ABERDEEN

Here lie the bones of Elizabeth Charlotte
Born a virgin, died a harlot
She was aye a virgin at seventeen
A remarkable thing in Aberdeen