I Desire That Death Find Me Ready

Whyle I Was Abowte To Chaunge Myn Olde Lyff-- What Sorowe I Suffred, Dyseese, Angre And Stryff, Cracchynge Myn Here, My Chekys All Totare, Wrythynge My Fyngres For Angwysshe And Care, Watrynge The Erthe With My Byttre Salte Teres That The Crye Of My Syghes Ascended To Goddys Eres, My Knees With Myn Handys Grasped Togedyre Soore, And Yitt I Stode The Same Man I Was Afore Tyl A Depe Profounde Remembraunce Att The Laste Hadd All My Wrecchednesse Afore Myn Eyn Caste

Those Spacious Regions Where Our Fancies Roam, Pain'd By The Past, Expecting Ills To Come, In Some Dread Moment, By The Fates Assign'd, Shall Pass Away, Nor Leave A Rack Behind; And Time's Revolving Wheels Shall Lose At Last The Speed That Spins The Future And The Past: And, Sovereign Of An Undisputed Throne, Awful Eternity Shall Reign Alone.

To Be Able To Say How Much Love, Is Love But Little.

For Death Betimes Is Comfort, Not Dismay, And Who Can Rightly Die Needs No Delay.

I Have Friends Whose Society Is Delightful To Me; They Are Persons Of All Countries And Of All Ages; Distinguished In War, In Council, And In Letters; Easy To Live With, Always At My Command.