not a colour had yet faded, and where the hues and fulness and prime
of youth dwelt, unconscious of the lapse of years--with the aged and
shrunken countenance of the deceased.

In that contrast was a sad and mighty moral: it wrought, as it were, a
contract between youth and age, and conveyed a rapid but full history
of our passions and our life.

The servant looked up once more on the countenance; he pointed towards
it, and muttered, "See, see how awfully it is changed!"

"But there is a smile upon it!" said Clarence, as he flung himself
beside the body and burst into tears.