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Laying.enied hierdreupon many a heart, had

The living throne, the sapphire blaze, The merry merry lark was up and singing, Where angels tremble while they gaze,

And the hare was out and feeding on ihe He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.

And the merry merry bells below were ringing, GRAYProgress of Poesy. St. 8. When my child's laugh rang through me.

Now the hare is snared and dead beside the Fling but a stone, the giant dies.

snow-yard, 6. MATTHEW GREEN — The Spleen.

And the lark beside the dreary winter sea; Line 93.

And the baby in his cradle in the churchyard Death borders upon our birth, and our

Sleeps sound till the bell brings me. cradle stands in our grave.

BISHOP HALL-Christian Moderation.

Gone before
Introduction. To that unknown and silent shore.

LAMB-Hester. St. 1.
Ere the dolphin dies no
Its hues are brightest. Like an infant's One destin'd period men in common have,

The great, the base, the coward, and the Are tropic winds before the voice of death.

brave, d. HALLECK- Fortune.

All food alike for worms, companions in the

grave. The ancients dreaded death: the Christian

LORD LANSDOWNE- Meditation on can only fear dying.

Decih. J. C. and A. W. HARE- Guesses at


And, as she looked around, she saw how

Death, the consoler, Death rides on every passing breeze,

healed it forever. He lurks in every flower. 5. HEBER- At a Funeral.

p. LONGFELLOW- Evangeline. Pt. II.

Death never takes one alone, but two! Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not

Whenever he enters in at a door, deplore thee,

Under roof of gold or roof of thatch, Though sorrows and darkness encompass the

He always leaves it upon the latch, tomb.

And comes again ere the year is o'er. g. HEBER— At a Funeral.

Never one of a household only. Dust, to its narrow house beneath!


LONGFELLOW-Christus. The Golden Soul, to its place on high!

Legend. Pt. VI. They that have seen thy look in death,

Oh, what hadst thou to do with cruel Death, No more may fear to die.

Who wast so full of life, or Death with thee, ኢ. Mrs. HEMANS—A Dirge.

That thou shouldst die before thou hadst Leaves have their time to fall,

LONGFELLOW– Three Friends of Mine. And flowers to wither at the north wind's

Pt. II. breath, And stars to set-but all,

The air is full of farewells to the dying,
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, oh!

And mournings for the dead.

8. LONGFELLOW-Resignation. i. Mrs. HEMANS—The Hour of Death.

Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom, We watched her breathing through the night,

A shadow on those features fair and thin; Her breathing soft and low,

And softly, from that hushed and darkened As in her breast the wave of life

room, Kept heaving to and fro.

Two angels issued, where but one went in.

t. LONGFELLOW-The Two Angels. St. I. Our very hopes belied our fears,

There is a Reaper whose name is Death, Our fears our hopes belied;

And, with his sickle keen, We thought her dying when she slept,

He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And sleeping when she died.

And the flowers that grow between. ) HOOD- The Death-bed.

LONGFELLOW-The Reaper and the Those whom God loves, die young.

Flowers. k. Monumental Inscription in Morroenstow

There is no confessor like unto Death! Church, Cornwall. Thou canst not see him, but he is near:

Thou needest not whisper above thy breath, The world will turn when we are earth

And he will hear;
As though we had not come nor gone; He will answer the questions,
There was no lack before our birth,

The vague surmises and suggestions,
When we are gone there will be none.

That fill thy soul with doubt and fear.
Omas KHAYYAM- Friederich

LONGFELLOW-Christus. The Golden
Bodenstedt. Trans.

Legend. Pt. V.

grown old!

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There is no flock, however watched and

tended, But one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,

But has one vacant chair.

b. LONGFELLOW Resignation. The young may die, but the old must! C. LONGFELLOW-Christus. The Golden

Legend. Pt. IV. To every man upon this earth

Death cometh soon or late, And how can man die better

Than, facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers

And the temples of his gods?
d. MACAULAY-Lays of Ancient Rome.

ļloratius. XXVII. She thought our good-night kiss was given,

And like a lily her life did close;

Angels uncurtain'd that repose,
And the next waking dawn'd in heaven.
MASSEY- The Ballad of Babe


There's nothing terrible in death;

'Tis but to cast our robes away, And sleep at night without a breath

To break repose till dawn of day. p. MONTGOMERY-In Memory of E. G. How short is human life! the very breath, Which frames my words, accelerates my

death. 9. Hannah MORE- King Hezekiah. Since, howe'er protracted, death will come, Why fondly study, with ingenious pains, To put it off? To breathe a little longer Is to defer our fate, but not to shun it.

HANNAH MORE-- David and Goliath.


Death hath a thousand doors to let out life,
I shall find one.
MASSINGER- A Very Woman. Act V.

Sc. 4.

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Stood grim Death now in view.
MASSINGER- The Roman Actor.

Act IV. Sc. 2.


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By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd,
By foreign bands thy decent limbs compos'd,
By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd,
By strangers honour'd, and by strangers

Pope-- To the Memory of an Unfortunate

Lady. Line 51.
Calmly he look'd on either Life, and here
Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear;
From Nature's temp'rate feast rose satisfy'd
Thank'd Heav'n that he had lived, and that

he died. b. POPE - Epitaph X. O death, all eloquent! you only prove What dust we doat on, when 'tis man we

Pope-Eloise to Abelard. Line 355.


After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor

poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.

Macbeth. Act III. Sc. 2. 'A made a finer end and went away, an ir had been any christom child; 'a parted even just between twelve and one, e'en at the turning o' th' tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with the flowers, and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields. How now, sir John? quoth I: what, man! be of good cheer. So 'a cried outGod, God, God! three or four times ; now I, to comfort him, bid him 'a should not think of God; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet.

0. Henry V. Act II. Sc. 3.

A man can die but once;—we owe God a death. p. Henry IV. Pt. II. Act III. Sc. 2.

And there, at Venice, gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he hail fought so long. 9.

Richard 11. Act IV. Sc. 1. And we shall feed like oxen at a stall, The better cherish'd still the nearer death.

Henry IV. Pt. I. Act V. Sc. 2.

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as with fouler spite marks. QUARLES — Divine Poems. Ed. 1669. at no pain shall wake, at no moon shall break, shall overtake fect calm. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI. Dream-Land.

St. 4.

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in vain ;

Dar'st thou die? The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great As when a giant dies.

t. Mousure for Measure. Act III. Sc. 1.

Death, n necessary end, Will come when it will come.

U. Julius Cæsar. Act II. Sc. 2.

ch thy bootlesse teares, thy weeping is
jot lost, for we in heaven shall one day
meet again.
Roxburghe Ballads. The Bride's

Buriall. Edited by Chas. Hindley. 's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.

SCHILLER- The Expectation. St. 4.
is gone on the mountain,
He is lost to the forest,
Like a summer-dried fountain,

When our neeil was the sorest.
k. SCOTT- Lady of the Lake. Canto III.

St. 16. Like the dew on the mountain,

Like the foam on the river,
Like the bubble on the fountain,

Thou art gone, and for ever!
1. SCOTT- Lady of the Lake. Canto III.

St. 12.

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In that sleep of death what dreams may come.

Hamlet, Act III. Sc. 1. I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood With that sour ferryman which poets write

of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.

Richard III. Act I. So 4. Let's choose executors, and talk of wills: And yet not so,—for what can we bequeath, Save our deposed bodies to the ground ? p. Richard II. Act III. Sc. 2.

My sick heart shows, That I must yield my body to the earth, And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe. Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge, Whose arms gave shelter to the princely

eagle; Under whose shade the ramping lion slept; Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spread

ing tree, And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful

wind. g. Henry VI. Pt. III. Act V. Sc. 2. Nothing can we call our own but death; And that small model of the barren earth, Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.

Richard II. Act III. Sc. 2.


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Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy

breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there. Romeo and Juliet. Act V. Sc. 3.

Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O

you, The doors of breath, seal with a righteous

kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death.

b. Romeo and Juliet, Act V. Sc. 3, Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Cymbeline. Act IV. Sc. 2. Song. Go thou, and fill another room in hell, That hand shall burn in never-quenching

fire, That staggers thus my person.-Exton, thy

fierce hand Hath, with thy king's blood, stain'd the

king's own land. Mount, mount my soul! thy seat is up on

high ; Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here

to die, d. Richard II. Act V. Sc. 5. Have I not hideous death within my view, Retaining but a quantity of life Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax Resolveth from its figure 'gainst the fire ?

King John. Act V. Sc. 4, He dies, and makes no sign.

Henry VI. Pt. II. Act III. Sc. 3. He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to Heaven, and slept in

peace. g. Henry VIII. Act IV. Sc. 2. Here is my journey's end, here is my butt, And very sea-mark of my utmost sail,

h. Othello. Act V. Sc. 2. He that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

i. Julius Cæsar. Act III. Sc. 1. He that dies, pays all debts.

j. Tempest Act III. Sc. 2. How oft, when men are at the point of death, Have they been merry! which their keepers

call A lightning before death.

k. Romeo and Juliet. Act V. Sc. 3.
I do not set my life at a pin's fee;
And, for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal ?
l Harriet. Act I, Sc. 4.

If I must die,
I will encounter darkness as a bride,
And hug it in mine arms,

Measure for Measure. Act III. So, 1.


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'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord, When men are unprepared, and look not for

it. b. Richard 111. Act III. Sc. 2. To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round

about The pendent world; or to be worse than

worst Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts Imagine howlings !—'tis too horrible! Measure for Measure. Act III. Sc. 1.

To die,-to sleep, No more; and, by a sleep, to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand natural

shocks That flesh is heir to,-'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished.

d. Hamlet. Act III. Sc. 1. We cannot hold mortalitie's strong hand. King John. Act IV. Sc. 2.

We must die, Messala: With meditating that she must die once, I have the patience to endure it now.

f. Julius Cæsar. Act IV. Sc. 3. We shall profane the service of the dead, To sing sage requiem, and such rest to her, As to peace-parted souls.

g. Hamlet. Act V. Sc. 1. Fal. What is the old king dead ? Pist. As nail in door. h. Henry IV. Pt. II. Act V. Sc. 3.

What's yet in this, That bears the name of life? Yet in this life Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we

fear, That makes these odds all even.

Measure for Measure. Act III. Sc. 1. When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death

of princes. j Julius Cæsar. Act. II. Sc. 2. Where art thou death?

k. Antony and Cleopatra. Act V. Sc. 2. Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth

and dust? And, live we how we can, yet die we must. I. Henry VI. Pt. III. Act V. Sc. 2.

Within the hollow crown, That rounds the mortal temples of a king, Keeps death his court; and there the antic

sits, Scofing his state, and grinning

at his pomp.
Richard II. Act III. Sc. 2.
Woe, destruction, ruin, loss, decay;
The worst is-death, and death will have his

Richard III. Act III. Sc. 2.

First our pleasures die-and then
Our hopes, and then our fears—and when
These are dead, the debt is due,
Dust claims dust-and we die too.

SHELLEY --Death.
How wonderful is death, death and his

brother, sleep! P. SHELLEY - Queen Mab. Line 1. The lone couch of his everlasting sleep.

9. SHELLEY-Alastor. Line 57. All buildings are but monuments of death, All clothes but winding-sheets for our last

knell, All dainty fattings for the worms beneath, All curious music, but our passing bell:

Thus death is nobly waited on, for why?

All that we have is but death's livery.
1. SHIRLEY The Passing Bell.
The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate,
Death lays his icy hands on kings.

Sceptre and crown

Must tumble down,
And, in the dust, be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
SHIRLEY— Contention of Ajax and

Ulysses. Sc. 3. We count it death to falter, not to die. t. SIMONIDES—Jacobs I. 63, 20.

To our graves we walk
In the thick footprints of departed men.

ALEX. SMITH-Horton. Line 570.
Death! to the happy thou art terrible;
But thou the wretched love to think of thee,
O thou true comforter! the friend of all
Who have no friend beside!
SOUTHEY—Joan of Arc. Bk. I.

Line 326. Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few, And soon the grassy coverlet of God Spreads equal green above their ashes pale. BAYARD TAYLOR— The Picture of St.

John. Bk. III. St. 84. He that would die well must always look for death, every day knocking at the gates of the grave; and then the grave shall never prevail against him to do him mischief. JEREMY TAYLORHoly Dying. Ch. II.

Pt. I. Death has made His darkness beautiful with thee. y. TENNYSON-In Memoriam.

Pt. LXXIII. God's finger touched him and he slept. TENNYSON- In Memoriam.

Pt. LXXXIV. The night comes on that knows not morn, When I shall cease to be alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn. aa. TENNYSON- Mariana in the South.

Last verse.



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