Death Had His Grudge Against Me, And

Who Over-refines His Argument Brings Himself To Grief

From Thought To Thought, From Mountain Peak To Mountain. Love Leads Me On; For I Can Never Still My Trouble On The World's Well Beaten Ways.

Death Is A Sleep That Ends Our Dreaming. Oh, That We May Be Allowed To Wake Before Death Wakes Us.

Life In Itself Is Short Enough, But The Physicians With Their Art, Know To Their Amusement, How To Make It Still Shorter.

Perhaps Out There, Somewhere, Someone Is Sighing For Your Absence; And With This Thought, My Soul Begins To Breathe.