John Dryden on Death
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“He was exhal'd; his great Creator drew His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.”
“Death in itself is nothing; but we fear To be we know not what, we know not where.”
“Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellow'd long.”
“Like a led victim, to my death I'll go, And dying, bless the hand that gave the blow.”
“So was she soon exhaled, and vanished hence; As a sweet odour, of a vast expense. She vanished, we can scarcely say she died.”
“Welcome, thou kind deceiver! Thou best of thieves! who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves.”