Death

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Death

Yes, There Is One Who Makes Us All Lay Down

Yes, there is one who makes us all lay down

Our mushroom vanities, our speculations,

Our well-set theories and calculations,

Our workman’s jacket or our monarch’s crown!

To him alike the country and the town,

Barbaric hordes or civilized nations,

Men of all names and ranks and occupations,

Squire, parson, lawyer, Jones, or Smith, or Brown!

He stops the carter: the uplifted whip

Falls dreamily among the horses’ straw;

He stops the helmsman, and the gallant ship

Holdeth to westward by another law;

No one will see him, no one ever saw,

But he sees all and lets not any slip.