Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;Thus unlamented let me die;Steal from the world, and not a stoneTell where I lie.

Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions soar;Wait the great teacher Death; and God adore.What future bliss, he gives not thee to know,But gives that hope to be thy blessing now.

Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O grave! where is thy victory? O death! where is thy sting?

Good God! how often are we to die before we go quite off this stage? In every friend we lose a part of ourselves, and the best part.

And die of nothing but a rage to live.

Who dies in youth and vigour, dies the best.

The lot of man - to suffer and to die.