2_. SHAKESPEARE.
The hour concealed, and so remote the fear,
Death still draws nearer, never seeming near.
_Essay on Man, Epistle III_. A. POPE.
The tongues of dying men
Enforce attention, like deep harmony:
When words are scarce, they're seldom spent in vain;
For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.
_K. Richard II., Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.
A death-bed's a detector of the heart:
Here tired dissimulation drops her mask,
Through life's grimace that mistress of the scene;
Here real and apparent are the same.
_Night Thoughts, Night II_. DR. E. YOUNG.
The chamber where the good man meets his fate
Is privileged beyond the common walk
Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven.
_Night Thoughts. Night II_. DR. E. YOUNG.
Nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it; he died,
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he owed,
As 't were a careless trifle.
_Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.
The bad man's death is horror; but the just,
Keeps something of his glory in the dust.
_Castara_. W. HABINGTON.
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhouseled, disappointed, unaneled;
No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.
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