Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, >>
When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but transl >>
But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am my own executioner. >>
The secret anniversaries of the heart. >>
Let us love nobly, and live, and add again years and years unto years, >>
Are there memories left that are safe from the clutches of phony anniv >>
Let us love nobly, and live, and add again years and years unto years, till we attain to write threescore: this is the second of our reign.