Knowledge by suffering entereth, And life is perfected by death.

And Marlowe, Webster, Fletcher, Ben, Whose fire-hearts sowed our furrows when The world was worthy of such men.

'Guess now who holds thee?'-'Death,' I said. But there The silver answer rang-'Not Death, but Love.'

And Chaucer, with his infantine Familiar clasp of things divine.

You will learn nothing of importance from this story except, perhaps, how to die; but then, you were born knowing that and in any case it only has to be done o…

My troubles are many They're deep as a well I swear there ain't no Heaven And I pray there ain't no hell But I'll never know by living only my dying will tell.…

Friends, wives and husbands, sons and daughters, dead Of plague, famine, and arrows: and the houses Battered unsafe by cannonades of stone Hurled in by the Ass…