Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Life is glad life when led by laughing hours, With joys of love or spoils of battle gilt;
When darkness steals the day and shuts the flowers, Our arms are shattered and the wine is spilt,
We rise as grateful guests from banquet gay,
Resign the wreath, and toss the glass away.Death is dark death when slurred with terrors vain: Whether blest isles or fields Elysian wait,
Or all is silent o'er the circling main, We know not ever; but we conquer Fate,
Assail the mansions of the Gods, and claim
The crown of valour, in a deathless name.Tis well to live for glory, home, and land; And, when these fail us, it is well to die.
The latest freedom never fails our hand, From scornful Earth, on wings of scorn, to fly;
When Life grows heavy. Death remains, the door
To dreamless rest beside the Stygian shore.The portals open to our meteor way: A red dawn breaks the shadows of the hour.
We leave the bitter cup of alien sway, To hinds that crouch beneath the heels of power.
Ours the triumphal path, the hero's right;
And Death hangs o'er us like a starry night!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sand of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solenm main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

maybe death
isn't darkness, after all,
but so much light
wrapping itself around us —

Watching a peaceful death of a human being reminds us of a falling star; one of a million lights in a vast sky that flares up for a brief moment only to disappear into the endless night forever.
-Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Films and gramophone records, music, books and buildings show clearly how vigorously a man's life and work go on after his death, whether we feel it or not, whether we are aware of the individual names or not. There is no such thing as death according to our view!

God is nowhere to be found, yet there is still so much light! Light that dazzles and maddens; crisp, ruthless light. Space echoes like an immense tomb, yet the stars still burn. Why does the sun take so long to die? Or the moon retain such fidelity to the Earth? Where is the new darkness? The greatest of all unknowings? Is death itself shy of us?