Epitaph on John West, An
Within this chest,
In peace doth rest,
Our friend John West ,
Whose fame is blest:
With heart distrest,
And tears exprest,
My hands I wrest,
And thump my breast,
To think the best
And dearest guest
Of old Ned Feast
Is now deceas'd.
In peace doth rest,
Our friend John West ,
Whose fame is blest:
With heart distrest,
And tears exprest,
My hands I wrest,
And thump my breast,
To think the best
And dearest guest
Of old Ned Feast
Is now deceas'd.
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