Did seem to hint at Death that was the sum
Of all we know, and all we strive to seek.
V.
And now it comes again, and with its eye
Bloodshot and blear, though pallid in its face,
Doth point, exacting, to the very place
Where I do keep, that no one may descry,
A lady's glove, a ribbon, and a dry,
A perjur'd rose, which oft I did embrace.
VI.