Long open panegyric drags at best,
And praise is only praise when well address'd.

Long open panegyric drags at best,
And praise is only praise when well address'd.

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face read more

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face to face
And bade each other stand.
"And who are you?" cried one, a-gape,
Shuddering in the glimmering light.
"I know not," said the second shape,
"I only died last night."

Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and read more

Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.

Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before,
Advanced a stage or two upon that road
read more

Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before,
Advanced a stage or two upon that road
Which you must travel in the steps they trod.

It is never death because they live in your heart foever.

It is never death because they live in your heart foever.

To please great men is not the last degree of praise.
[Lat., Principibus placuisse viris non ultima laus est.]

To please great men is not the last degree of praise.
[Lat., Principibus placuisse viris non ultima laus est.]

Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe,
Are lost on hearers that our merits know.

Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe,
Are lost on hearers that our merits know.

Sweet is the scene where genial friendship plays The pleasing game of interchanging praise.

Sweet is the scene where genial friendship plays The pleasing game of interchanging praise.

Men fear death, as if unquestionably the greatest evil, and yet no man knows that it may not be the read more

Men fear death, as if unquestionably the greatest evil, and yet no man knows that it may not be the greatest good.