This Mirabeau's work, then is done. He sleeps with the primeval giants. He has gone over to the majority: "Abiit ad plures."

Loe here the precious dust is layd; Whose purely-temper'd clay was made So fine that it the guest betray'd. Else the soule grew so fast within, It broke the outward shall of sinne And so was hatch'd a cherubin.

For the Lord Jesus Christ's sake, Do all the good you can, To all the people you can, In all the ways you can, As long as ever you can.

Farewell, vain world, I've had enough of thee, And Valies't not what thou Can'st say of me; Thy Smiles I count not, nor thy frowns I fear, My days are past, my head lies quiet here. What faults you saw in me take Care to shun, Look but at home, enough is to be done.

Ecce quod expendi habui, quod donavi habeo, quod negavi punior, quod servavi perdidi.

Beneath these green trees rising to the skies, The planter of them, Isaac Greentree, lies; The time shall come when these green trees shall fall, And Isaac Greentree rise above them all.