Death is a gift of the most curious kind
Mortality a kindness, a kiss, and act of love,
Forever a never-ending scene, a plague to the mind,
Immortals live and live
through everlasting bliss and despair,
While Men have a means unfair,
to leave the world behind.
Under shadow of Death’s long arm
Men need be calm,
and with clean, scornful beam
behold a priceless alm:
The largesse of life’s terminus;
The permanence of impermanence.
Death is a gift of the most curious kind,
Like news of groom and lady fair,
It, every Man will find.