I Am Two Fools, I Know, For

When One Man Dies, One Chapter Is Not Torn Out Of The Book, But Translated Into A Better Language.

Death Comes Equally To Us All, And Makes Us All Equal When It Comes.

That Soul That Can Reflect Upon Itself, Consider Itself, Is More Than So.

I Wonder, By My Troth, What Thou And I Did, Till We Lov'd?

All Mankind Is One Volume. When One Man Dies, A Chapter Is Not Torn Out Of The Book, But Translated Into A Better Language. And Every Chapter Must Be Translated. God Employs Several Translators; Some Pieces Are Translated By Age, Some By Sickness, Some By War, Some By Justice. But God's Hand Shall Bind Up All Our Scattered Leaves Again For That Library Where Every Book Shall Live Open To One Another