19. THE WILL.

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Now that life is nearly spent,
Here’s my will and testament,
Giving every foe a present,
As a Christian finds it pleasant:
Let these gentry full of merit
Have my sickness as their guerdon,
All that makes my life a burden,—
All my wretched pangs inherit.
I bequeath you all the colic
Which my belly tweaks in frolic,—
Strangury and these perfidious
Prussian piles so sharp and hideous.
Unto you my cramps be given,
Pains in joints, and salivation,
Pains in back, and inflammation,—
Every one the gift of heaven.
Let this codicil then follow:—
Lord! that wretched herd demolish,
And their very name abolish,
As they in their vileness wallow.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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