[208] A striking illustration of this comes to me, as I write, in a popular song with lugubrious music that many of my young friends persist in singing and humming as if haunted by it.
Some Sweet Day
Did you ever think as the hearse rolled by
That some day or other you must die?
In an old churchyard, in a tiny lot,
Your bones will wither and then they’ll rot.
The worms’ll crawl up, the worms’ll crawl in,
They’ll crawl all over your mouth and chin.
They’ll bring their friends, and their friends’ friends, too;
You’ll look like hell when they’re through with you.