EPITAPH ON THE SAME

By Jonathan Swift

Beneath this verdant hillock lies

Demar, the wealthy and the wise,

His heirs,that he might safely rest,

Have put his carcass in a chest;

The very chest in which, they say,

His other self, his money, lay.

And, if his heirs continue kind

To that dear self he left behind,

I dare believe, that four in five

Will think his better self alive.