May he live
Longer than I have time to tell his years!
Ever belov'd, and loving, may his rule be!
And, when old Time shall lead him to his end,
Goodness and he fill up one monument!
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.
Oh, sir! the good die first,
And they whose hearts are dry as summer's dust,
Burn to the socket.
WORDSWORTH: _Excursion,_ Bk. i., Line 504.
Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever;
Do noble things, not dream them, all day long:
And so make life, death, and that vast forever
One grand, sweet song.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _A Farewell._