Lord Byron on Death

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Heaven gives its favourites — early death.
Lord Byron
Ah! surely nothing dies but something mourns!
Lord Byron
"Whom the gods love die young," was said of yore.
Lord Byron
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
Lord Byron
Oh, God! it is a fearful thing To see the human soul take wing In any shape, in any mood!
Lord Byron
Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is pass'd in sleep.
Lord Byron
Down to the dust! — and, as thou rott'st away, Even worms shall perish on thy poisonous clay.
Lord Byron