He who hath bent him o'er the dead
Ere the first day of death is fled,-
The first dark day of nothingness,
The last of danger and distress,
Before decay's effacing fingers
Have swept the lines where beauty lingers. (Lord Byron)

He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled,- The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress, Before decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers.

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