“Dead? did you say he was dead? or is it only my brain?
He went away an hour ago; will he never come again?”—Tamar Kermode.
“There is no armor against fate.”—Shirley.
“Dreadful is their doom * * * like yonder blasted bough by thunder riven.”—Beattie.
“By forms unseen their dirge is sung.”—Collins.
“Death, a necessary evil, will come when it will come.”—Shakespeare.
“Where is the reed on which I leant?”—Tennyson.
“To-morrow is with God alone.
And man hath but to-day.”—Whittier.
“Who so shall telle a tale after a man moste reherse everich word.”—Chaucer.