Old man! ’tis not so difficult to die. - Lord Byron

Between two worlds life hovers like a star,
'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge.
How little do we know that which we are!
How less what we may be! The eternal surge
Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar
Our bubbles; as the old burst, new emerge,
Lash'd from the foam of ages; while the graves
Of Empires heave but like some passing waves.

Soprano, basso, even the contra-alto, Wished him five fathom under the Rialto.

Despair of all recovery spoils longevity,
And makes men’s miseries of alarming brevity.