Well, Every One Can Master A Grief

Whose Heart The Accustom'd Sight Of Death Makes Hard.

And Thou, All-shaking Thunder, Strike Flat The Thick Rotundity O' The World! Crack Nature's Moulds, All Germens Spill At Once That Makes Ingrateful Man!

He Is Dead And Gone, Lady, He Is Dead And Gone; At His Head A Grass-green Turf, At His Heels A Stone.

Now He'll Outstare The Lightning. To Be Furious Is To Be Frightened Out Of Fear.

It Is Silliness To Live When To Live Is Torment.