One boon she begs before she dies,
"And pray what's that?" the 'Squire replies.
Only when this my house of clay,
Shall to the hounds become a prey,
(As soon, ah cruel hounds! it must,)
And these sad eyes return to dust;
May this my last request be heard,
And decently my corps interr'd
Within a concave basket's womb,
With this inscription on my tomb;
,  —
