Nothing In His Life Became Him Like

Death, As The Psalmist Saith, Is Certain To All, All Shall Die.

My Glass Shall Not Persuade Me I Am Old, So Long As Youth And Thou Are Of One Date; But When In Thee Time's Furrows I Behold, Then Look I Death My Days Should Expiate.

Love Moderately. Long Love Doth So. Too Swift Arrives As Tardy As Too Slow. *love Each Other In Moderation. That Is The Key To Long-lasting Love. Too Fast Is As Bad As Too Slow.*

Death, A Necessary End, Will Come When It Will Come

Full Fathom Five Thy Father Lies; Of His Bones Are Coral Made; Those Are Pearls That Were His Eyes; Nothing Of Him That Doth Fade, But Doth Suffer A Sea-change Into Something Rich And Strange. Sea-nymphs Hourly Ring His Knell: Ding-dong. Hark! Now I Hear Them — Ding-dong, Bell.