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To The Memory Of My Dear And Ever Honoured Father Thomas Dudley Esq; Who Deceased, July 31. 1653. An

Rating: 2.7

By duty bound, and not by custome led
To celebrate the praises of the dead,
My mournfull mind, sore prest, in trembling verse
Presents my Lamentations at his Herse,
Who was my Father, Guide, Instructer too,
To whom I ought whatever I could doe:
Nor is't Relation near my hand shall tye;
For who more cause to boast his worth then I?
Who heard or saw, observ'd or knew him better?
Or who alive then I, a greater debtor?

Let malice bite, and envy knaw its fill,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
karen shon yo 17 March 2018

i hate this poem makes no sense she looks depressed and i may be a kid this my homework very long i can do this gave up already now

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