Death Forerunneth Love To Win "sweetest Eyes

Quick-loving Hearts ... May Quickly Loathe.

Pan Is Dead! Great Pan Is Dead! Pan, Pan Is Dead!

What We Call Life Is A Condition Of The Soul. And The Soul Must Improve In Happiness And Wisdom, Except By Its Own Fault. These Tears In Our Eyes, These Faintings Of The Flesh, Will Not Hinder Such Improvement.

The Exchange Of Sympathy For Gratitude Is The Most Princely Thing!

Guess Now Who Holds Thee?'--'death,' I Said. But, There, The Silver Answer Rang, . . . 'not Death, But Love.