Poem by John Clare

The Universal Epitaph

No flattering praises daub my stone,
   My frailties and my faults to hide;
My faults and failings all are known—
   I liv'd in sin—in sin I died.

And oh! condemn me not, I pray,
   You who my sad confession view;
But ask your soul, if it can say,
   That I'm a viler man than you. 

1. Patty
2. Address to Plenty
3. On an Infant’s Grave
4. Summer Evening
5. The Harvest Morning

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