Oh Do Not Die, For I Shall

No Spring Nor Summer Beauty Hath Such Grace As I Have Seen In One Autumnal Face.

Death Is An Ascension To A Better Library.

All Mankind Is Of One Author, And Is One Volume; When One Man Dies, One Chapter Is Not Torn Out Of The Book, But Translated Into A Better Language; And Every Chapter Must Be So Translated....as Therefore The Bell That Rings To A Sermon, Calls Not Upon The Preacher Only, But Upon The Congregation To Come: So This Bell Calls Us All....no Man Is An Island, Entire Of Itself...any Man's Death Diminishes Me, Because I Am Involved In Mankind; And Therefore Never Send To Know For Whom The Bell Tolls; It Tolls For Thee.

And Dare Love That, And Say So Too, And Forget The He And She.

I Throw Myself Down In My Chamber, And I Call And Invite God And His Angels Thither.