I Saw The Tracks Of Angels In

Death Had His Grudge Against Me, And He Got Up In The Way, Like An Armed Robber, With A Pike In His Hand.

For Virtue Only Finds Eternal Fame.

When The Poet Died His Cat Was Put To Death And Mummified.

Alack Our Life, So Beautiful To See, With How Much Ease Life Losest, In A Day, What Many Years With Pain And Toil Amassed!

Rarely Do Great Beauty And Great Virtue Dwell Together.