A good death does honour to a whole life.
For death betimes is comfort, not dismay, and who can rightly die needs no delay.
My flowery and green age was passing away, and I feeling a chill in the fires had been wasting my heart, for I was drawing near the hillside above the grave.
Death had his grudge against me, and he got up in the way, like an armed robber, with a pike in his hand.
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