“For till the thunder and trumpet be,Soul may divide from body, but not weOne from another”

“Time turns the old days to derision, Our loves into corpses or wives; And marriage and death and division Make barren our lives.”

“From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.”

“Villon our sad bad glad mad brother's name.”

“By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept Remembering thee.”

“I am that which unloves me and loves; I am stricken, and I am the blow.”

“Here now in his triumph where all things falter, Stretched out on the spoils that his own hand spread,As a god self-slain on his own strange altar, Death lies dead.”

“But now, you are twain, you are cloven apartFlesh of his flesh, but heart of my heart.”

“Today will die tomorrow.”

“For till the thunder and trumpet be,Soul may divide from body, but not weOne from another”

“From too much love of livingFrom hope and fear set free,We thank with brief thanksgivingWhatever gods may beThat no life lives for ever;That dead men rise up never;That even the weariest riverWinds somewhere safe to sea.Then star nor sun shall waken,Nor any change of light:Nor sound of waters shaken,Nor any sound or sight:Nor wintry leaves nor vernal,Nor days nor things diurnal;Only the sleep eternalIn an eternal night.”