Ned Rorem
Ned Rorem
Ned Rorem
Ned Rorem
Ned Rorem
Ned Rorem
Ned Rorem
Ned Rorem
Ned Rorem
Ned Rorem
Here she lies, a pretty bud
Lately made of flesh and blood:
Who as soon fell fast asleep
As her little eyes did peep
Give her strewings but not stir
The earth that lightly covers her
Epitaph was written by Ned Rorem & Robert Herrick.