Death, Thou Shalt Die.

O Lord, Never Suffer Us To Think That We Can Stand By Ourselves, And Not Need Thee.

Any Man's Death Diminishes Me, Because I Am Involved In Mankind; And Therefore Never Send To Know For Whom The Bell Tolls; It Tolls For Thee.

To An Incompetent Judge I Must Not Lie, But I May Be Silent; To A Competent I Must Answer.

Who Ever Comes To Shroud Me, Do Not Harm Nor Question Much That Subtle Wreath Of Hair, Which Crowns My Arm; The Mystery, The Sign You Must Not Touch, For 'tis My Outward Soul, Viceroy To That, Which Then To Heaven Being Gone, Will Leave This To Control, And Keep These Limbs, Her Provinces, From Dissolution.

To Roam Giddily, And Be Everywhere But At Home, Such Freedom Doth A Banishment Become.