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Dad's dead and left me nothing in his will— I shouldn't care if he were living still.

Another Condé we may see, Turenne may come again, But for another Grammont we Must ever look in vain.

Louisa says that I'm her beau, So I suppose it must be so; But till she said so I must own The fact to me was quite unknown.

"My patients never of my skill complain," Said a physician, ignorant and vain: "That I can understand," a jester said "For no complaints are uttered by the dead."

Here lies John Smith—a tear afford him— Who hung himself because life bored him.