Better Be With The Dead, Whom We

Let The Doors Be Shut Upon Him, That He May Play The Fool No Where But In's Own House.

He Wears His Faith But As The Fashion Of His Hat.

Free From Gross Passion Or Of Mirth Or Anger

To Die: - To Sleep: No More; And, By A Sleep To Say We End The Heart-ache And The Thousand Natural Shocks That Flesh Is Heir To, 'tis A Consummation Devoutly To Be Wished.

Poor Wretches That Depend On Greatness' Favor, Dream As I Have Done; Wake, And Find Nothing.