POOR AEsop being taken ill,
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But yet of perfect mind, thus makes his Will:
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First, I bequeath my Soul, when I forsake it,
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To him that has the cheifest Right to take it.
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My Body next, (let me consider well)
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To him, that will convey it out of smell;
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My Worldly Goods, although they are but few,
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My scribing Friends, those I bequeath to you.
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And were I sure that hed accept of it,
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My Friend of Quality should have my Wit:
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Next to the Squire, that with his Horse and Hounds,
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Leapt oer his Tenants Hedge, and broke his Mounds:
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To him, and to his Heirs, my whip and clogs
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I give, to discipline his Headstrong Dogs;
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And to the Farmer, who was in such care
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To call this Squire to kill the foolish Hare,
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Among my lumber he a Rope will find,
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Een let him take it, and use it as designd:
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And next, I give, but let me recollect,
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I would do something fain, for every Sect.
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First to our Grave Divines, well let me see
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Ill give them what they want, my Charity;
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Let the Non-Jurants take my Head and Ears,
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And learn Poor modest Fools to be more wise,
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Then still to be deceivd with Idle tales and lyes.
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And sure the Papist cannot take it ill,
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If dying AEsop puts them in his Will,
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To them I leave my truth and moderation,
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Theyll do them good against the next Invasion.
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The Presbyterians I should something leave,
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But they are so Rich I know not what to give:
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The Quakers too expect their Legacy,
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Well set them down in hast, my modesty.
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Let all the other Sects, (for I wont wrong em)
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Take my Religion and divide among em:
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And now at last, it is my will and mind,
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Some honest wealthy Cit would be so kind
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To see all this performd, and for his pains,
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To take for him, and for his Heirs my Brains.
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