An orphan's curse would drag to hell, a spirit from on high; but oh! more horrible than that, is a curse in a dead man's eye!
Our quaint metaphysical opinions, in an hour of anguish, are like playthings by the bedside of a child deathly sick.
Death came with friendly care; The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And bade it blossom there.
Swans sing before they die - 'twere no bad thing should certain persons die before they sing.
Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was white as leprosy, The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold.
Death but supplies the oil for the inextinguishable lamp of life.
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