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He slept an iron sleep,-
Slain fighting for his country.
BRYANT'S Homer's liad. Bk. XI.

Line 285.

They die
An equal death,--the idler and the man
Of mighty deeds.
b. BRYANT's Homer's Iliad. Bk. IX.

Line 396. I have been dying for years, now I shall be

gin to live.

Words. Ah! surely nothing dies but something

d. BYRON--Don Juan. Canto III.

St. 108. Death, so called, is a thing which makes men

weep, And yet a third of life is pass'd in sleep. BYRON- Don Juan. Canto XIV.

St. 3.
He who hath bent him o'er the dead,
Ere the first day of death is fled-
The first dark day of nothingness,
The last of danger and distress,
(Before Decay's effacing fingers,
Have swept the lines where beauty lingers) --
And mark'd the mild angelic air,
The rapture of repose that's there.

f. BYRON--The Giaour. Line 68.
Oh, God ! it is a fearful thing
To see the human soul take wing
In any shape, in any mood.

g. BYRON--Prisoner of Chillon. St. 8.
So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
Wo start, for soul is wanting there.

h. BYRON--The Giaour. Line 92.
The absent are the dead--for they are cold,
And ne'er can be what once we did behold;
And they are changed, and cheerless, -or if

The unforgotten do not all forget,
Since thus divided-equal must it be
If the deep barrier be of earth, or sea;
It may be both--but one day end it must
In the dark union of insensate dust.

i. BYRON-A Fragment. Without a grave-unknell'd-uncoffin'd and

unknown. j. BYRONChilde Harold. Canto IV.

St. 179. 'Tis ever wrong to say a good man dies. k. CALLIMACHUS- Epigram on a Good


. Some men make a womanish complaint that it is a great misfortune to die before our time. I would ask what time? Is it that of Nature? But she indeed, has lent us life, as we do a sum of money, only no certain day is fixed for payment. What reason then to complain if she demands it at pleasure, since it was on this condition that you received it.


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Death, be not proud, though some have

called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those, whom thou think'st thou dost

overthrow, Die not, poor Death. DONNE- Divine Poems. Holy Sonnets.

No. 17. One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou

shalt die. p. DONNE-Divine Poems. Holy Sonnets.

No. 17. He was exhal'd; his Creator drew His spirit, as the sun the morning dew. 9. DRYDEN- On the Death of a Very

Young Gentleman.
Led like a victim, to my death I'll go,
And, dying, bless the hand that gave the

DRYDEN— The Spanish Friar. Act II.

Sc. 1. Death is the king of this world: 'tis his park Where he breeds life to feed him. Cries of

pain Are music for his banquet. GEORGE ELIOT - Spanish Gypsy.

Bk, 2. Good-bye, proud world ! I'm going home: Thou art not my friend, and I'm not thine.

1. EMERSON--Good-Bye. Drawing near her death, she sent most pious thoughts as harbingers to heaven; and her soul saw a glimpse of happiness through the chinks of her sickness-broken body. u. FULLER— The Holy and the Profane

State. Bk. L Ch. II. To die is landing on some silent shore, Where billows never break nor tempests

roar: Ere well we feel the friendly stroke 'lis oe'r. v. GARTH - The Dispensary. Canto III.

Line 225. Where the brass knocker, wrapt in flannel

band, Forbids the thunder of the footman's band, Th' upholder, rueful harbinger of death, Waits with impatience for the dying breath.

GAY-Trivia. Bk. II. Line 467. Can storied urn or animated bust

Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death?

GRAY-- Elegy. St. 11.

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The living throne, the sapphire blaze,
Where angels tremble while they gaze,
He saw; but blasted with excees of light,
Closed his eyes in endless night.

GRAY--Progress of Poesy. St. 8.
Fling but a stone, the giant dies.
b. MATTHEW GREEN -- The Spleen.

Line 93.

my child's


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Ere the dolphin dies Its hues are brightest. Like an infant's

breath Are tropic winds before the voice of death.

d. HALLECK- Fortune.

The merry merry lark was up and singing, And the hare was out and feeding on The

lea; And the merry merry bells below were ringing, When

's laugh rang through me. Now the hare is snared and dead beside the

And the lark beside the dreary winter sea;
And the baby in his cradle in the churchyard
Sleeps sound till the bell brings me.

Gone before
To that unknown and silent shore.

LAMB—Hester. St. 1.
One destin'd period men in common have,
The great, the base, the coward, and the

brave, All food alike for worms, companions in the

LORD LANSDOWNE- Meditation on

Death. And, as she looked around, she saw how

Death, the consoler, Laying his hand upon many a heart, had

healed it forever. p. LONGFELLOW, Evangeline. Pt. II. Death never takes one alone, but two! Whenever he enters in at a door, Under roof of gold or roof of thatch, He always leaves it upon the latch, And comes again ere the year is o'er. Never one of a household only. 9. LONGFELLOW-Christus. The Golden

Legend. Pt. VI. Oh, what hadst thou to do with cruel Death, Who wast so full of life, or Death with thee, That thou shouldst die before thou hadst

The ancients dreaded death: the Christian can only fear dying. e. J. C. and X. W. HARE-Guesses at


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Death rides on every passing breeze,
He lurks in every flower.

f. HEBER— At a Funeral. Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not

deplore thee, Though sorrows and darkness encompass the

g. HEBER- At a Funeral.
Dust, to its narrow house beneath!

Soul, to its place on high!
They that have seen thy look in death,

No more may fear to die.
h. Mrs. HEMANS— A Dirge.

Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the north wind's

breath, And stars to set-but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, oh!

Death. i. Mrs. HEMANS--The Hour of Death. We watched her breathing through the night,

Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life

Kept heaving to and fro.

grown old!

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LONGFELLOW– Three Friends of Mine.

Pt. II. The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead.

LONGFELLOW-Resignation. Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom,

A shadow on those features fair and thin; And softly, from that hushed and darkened

room, Two angels issued, where but one went in.

t. LONGFELLOW-The Two Angels. St. 9. There is a Reaper whose name is Death,

And, with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.
LONGFELLOW-The Reaper and the

Flowers. There is no confessor like unto Death!

Thou canst not see him, but he is near: Thou needest not whisper above thy breath,

And he will hear; He will answer the questions, The vague surmises and suggestions, That fill thy soul with doubt and fear. LONGFELLOW-Christus. The Golden

Legend. Pt. V.

Our very hopes belied our fears,

Our fears our hopes belied;
We thought her dying when she slept,

And sleeping when she died. j. HOOD- The Death-bed. Those whom God loves, die young. k. Monumental Inscription in Morwenstow

Church, Cornwall. The world will turn when we are earth

As though we had not come nor gone; There was no lack before our birth, When we are gone there will be none. OMAR KHAYYAM- Friederich

Bodenstedt. Trans.


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There is no Death! What seems so is transi

This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the lite elysian,
Whose portal we call Death.

LONGFELLOW- Resignation.

I fled and cried out Death! Hell trembled at the hideous name, and

sigh'd From all her cares, and back resounded

Death. m. MILTON- Paradise Lost. Bk. II.

Line 787.

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There is no flock, however watched and

tended, But one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,

But has one vacant chair.

b. LONGFELLOW Resignation. The young may die, but the old must! LONGFELLOW-Christus. The Golden

Legend. Pt. IV. To every man upon this earth

Death cometh soon or late, An l how can man die better

Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers

And the temples of his gods?
d. MACAULAY-Lays of Ancient Rome.

Horatius. XXVII. She thought our good-night kiss was given,

An:l like a lily her life did close;

Angels uncurtain'd that repose,
And the next waking dawn'd in heaven.
MASSEY— The Ballad of Babe


That golden key That opes the palace of eternity.

0. MILTON -- Comus. Line 13. There's nothing terrible in death;

'Tis but to cast our robes away, And sleep at night withont a breath

To break repose till dawn of day.

p. MONTGOMERY— In Memory of E. G. How short is human life! the very breath, Which frames my words, accelerates my

death. 9. HANNAH MORE-- King Hezekiah. Since, howe'er protracted, death will come, Why fondly study, with ingenious pains, To put it off? To breathe a little longer Is to defer our fate, but not to shun it.

Hannah MORE- David and Goliath.
Two hands upon the breast,

And labour's done;
Two pale feet cross'd in rest,
The race is won.

D. M. MULOCK -- Now and Afterwards.
Death's but a path that must be trod,
If man would ever pass to God.
t. PARNELL-Å Night-Piece on Death.

Line 67.



Death hath a thousand doors to let out life, I shall find one. f. MASSINGER- A Very Woman. Act V.

Sc. 4.

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Stood grim Death now in view.
MASSINGER- The Roman Actor.

Act IV. Sc. 2.

There's nothing certain in man's life but this, That he must lose it. h. OWEN MEREDITH Clytemnestra.

Pt. XX.


Before mine eyes in opposition sits
Grim Death, my son and foe.
i. MILTON - Paradise Lost. Bk. II.

Line 803.


Death comes to all. His cold and sapless

hand Waves o'er the world, and beckons us away. Who shall resist the summons?

THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK-Time. Death betimes is comfort, not dismay, And who can rightly die needs no delay. PETRARCH-To Laura in Death.

Canzone V. He whom the gods love dies young, while he is in health, has his senses and his judgment sound.

PLAUTUS— Bacchid. IV. 7, 18.
Come, let the burial rite be read,

The funeral song be sung!
An anthem for the queenliest dead

That ever died so young-
A dirge for her the donbly dead
In that she died so young.

POE-Leonore. St. 1. A heap of dust alone remains of thee, "Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be. y. POPE- To the Memory of an

Unfortunate Lady. Line 73.

Behind her Death Close following pace for pace, not mounted

yet On his pale horse ! j. MILTON- Paradise Lost. Bk. X.

Line 588. But death comes not at call: justice divine Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or

cries. k. MILTON—Paradise Lost. Bk. X.

Line 858.



Grioned horrible a ghastly smile, to hear
His famine should be filled.
1. MILTON -- Paradise Lost. Bk. II.

Line 845.






By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd,
By foreign bands thy decent limbs coinpos’d,
By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd,
By strangers honour'd, and by strangers

POPE- To the Memory of an Unfortunate

Lady. Line 51.
Calmly he look'd on either Life, and here
Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear;
From Nature's temp'rate feast rose satisfy'd
Thank'd Heav'n that he had lived, and that

he died. b. POPE - Epitaph X. O death, all eloquent! you only prove What dust we doat on, when 'tis man we

POPE- Eloise to Abelard. Line 355.


After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor

poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.

Macbeth. Act III. Sc. 2. 'A made a finer end and went away, an it had been any christom child; 'a parted even just between twelvo and one, e'en at the turning o'th' tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with the flowers, and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields. How now, sir John? quoth I: what, man! be of good cheer. So 'a cried outGod, God, God! three or four times ; now I, to comfort him, bid him 's should not think of God; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet.

Henry V. Act II. Sc. 3. A man can die but once;-we owe God a death. p. Henry IV. Pt. II. Act III. Sc. 2.

And there, at Venice, gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long. 9.

Richard II. Act IV. Sc. 1. And we shall feed like oxen at a stall, The better cherish'd still the nearer death.

Henry IV. Pt. I. Act V. Sc. 2. Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, Unhous'd, disappointed, unanel'd; No reckoning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head.

Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 5.

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Sleep and death, two twins of winged race, Of matchless swiftness, but of silent pace. d. POPE's Homer's Iliad. Bk. XVI.

Line 831. Tell me, my soul, can this be death?

POPE, The Dying Christian to his Soul. Tired, he sleeps, and life's poor play is o'er. f. POPE- Essay on Man. Ep. II.

Line 282. Death aims with fouler spite At fairer marks.

9. QUARLES -- Divine Poems. Ed. 1669. Sleep that no pain shall wake, Night that no moon shall break, Till joy shall overtake Her perfect calm. ኤ h. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI. Dream-Land.

St. 4. O stanch thy bootlesse teares, thy weeping is

in vain ; I am not lost, for we in heaven shall one day

meet again. i. Roxburghe Ballads. The Bride's

Buriull. Edited by Chas. Hindley. Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet

J. SCHILLER- The Expectation. St. 4.
He is gone on the mountain,

He is lost to the forest,
Like a summer-dried fountain,

When our neeil was the sorest.
Scott- Lady of the Lake. Canto III.

St. 16. Like the dew on the mountain,

Like the foam on the river,
Like the bubble on the fountain,

Thou art gone, and for ever!
I. SCOTT— Lady of the Lake. Canto III.

St. 12.
Soon the shroud shall lap thee fast,
And the sleep be on thee cast,
That shall ne'er know waking,

SCOTT-Guy Mannering. Ch. XXVII.

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In that sleep of death what dreams may come.

Hamlet, Act III. Sc. 1. I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood With that sour ferryman which poets write

of, Unto the

kingdom of perpetual night. 0. Richard III. Act I, Sc 4. Let's choose executors, and talk of wills: And yet not so,-for what can we bequeath, Save our deposed bodies to the ground? p. Richard II. Act III. Sc. 2.

My sick heart shows, That I must yield my body to the earth, And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe. Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge, Whose arms gave shelter to the princely

eagle; Under whose shade the ramping lion slept; Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spread

ing tree, And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful

wind. 9. Henry VI. Pt. III. Act V. Sc. 2. Nothing can we call our own but death; And that small model of the barren earth, Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.

Richard II. Act III. Sc. 2.

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Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy

breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there. Romeo and Juliet. Act V. Sc. 3.

Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O

you, The doors of breath, seal with a righteous

kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death.

b. Romeo and Juliet. Act V, Sc. 3, Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Cymbeline. Act IV. Sc. 2, Song. Go thou, and fill another room in hell. That hand shall burn in never-quenching

fire, That staggers tbus my person.—Exton, thy

fierce hand Hath, with thy king's blood, stain'd the

king's own land, Mount, mount my soul! thy seat is up on

high ; Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here

to die, d, Richard II. Act V, Sc. 5. Have I not hideous death within my view, Retaining but a quantity of life Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax Resolveth from its figure 'gainst the fire ?

King John. Act V. Sc. 4. He dies, and makes no sign.

fi Henry VI. Pt. II. Act III. Sc. 3. He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to Heaven, and slept in

peace. g. Henry VIII. Act IV. Sc. 2. Here is my journey's end, here is my butt, And very sea-mark of my utmost sail,

h. Othello. Act V. Sc. 2. He that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

i. Julius Cæsar. Act III. Sc. 1. He that dies, pays all debts.

j. Tempest. Act III. Sc. 2. How oft, when men are at the point of death, Have they been merry! which their keepers

call A lightning before death.

k. Romeo and Juliet. Act V. Sc. 3.
I do not set my life at a pin's fee;
And, for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal ?
lo Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 4.

If I must die,
I will encounter darkness as a bride,
And hug it in mine arms.

Measure for Measure. Act III. Sc, 1.


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