The death-change comes.
Death is another life. We bow our heads
At going out, we think, and read more

The death-change comes.
Death is another life. We bow our heads
At going out, we think, and enter straight
Another golden chamber of the king's
Larger than this we leave, and lovelier.
And then in shadowy glimpses, disconnect,
The story, flower-like, closes thus its leaves.
The will of God is all in all. He makes,
Destroys, remakes, for His own pleasure, all.

We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as read more

We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance.

Death and life have their determined appointments; riches and honors depend upon heaven.

Death and life have their determined appointments; riches and honors depend upon heaven.

The white sail of his soul has rounded
The promontory--death.

The white sail of his soul has rounded
The promontory--death.

I know not what others may choose but, as for me, give me liberty or give me death.

I know not what others may choose but, as for me, give me liberty or give me death.

The sole equality on earth is death.

The sole equality on earth is death.

Go thou, deceased, to this earth which is a mother, and spacious
and kind. May her touch be soft read more

Go thou, deceased, to this earth which is a mother, and spacious
and kind. May her touch be soft like that of wool, or a young
woman, and may she protect thee from the depths of destruction.
Rise above him, O Earth, do not press painfully on him, give him
good things, give him consolation, as a mother covers her child
with her cloth, cover thou him.

Don't strew me with roses after I'm dead. When Death claims the light of my brow No flowers of life read more

Don't strew me with roses after I'm dead. When Death claims the light of my brow No flowers of life will cheer me: instead You may give me my roses now!

I am ready to meet my maker, but whether my maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me read more

I am ready to meet my maker, but whether my maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.