Quote: What Angel Wakes Me From My

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

Lay Aside Life-harming Heaviness, And Entertain A Cheerful Disposition.

My Age Is As A Lusty Winter, Frosty But Kindly.

He Uses His Folly Like A Stalking-horse, And Under The Presentation Of That He Shoots His Wit.

This Thing Of Darkness I Acknowlege Mine. There Is Nothing More Confining Than The Prison We Don't Know We Are In.