494
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night v., Line 1011.

To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
495
MACAULAY: _Lays Anc. Rome, Horatius,_ xxvii.

Leaves have their times 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, O death.
496
MRS. HEMANS: _Hour of Death._

Death is only kind to mortals.
497
SCHILLER: _Complaint of Ceres,_ St. 4.

What a strange, delicious amazement is Death,
To be without body and breathe without breath.
498
EDWIN ARNOLD: _She and He._

There is no Death! What seems so is transition;
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian,
Whose portal we call death.
499
LONGFELLOW: _Resignation,_ St. 5.