After Death nothing is, and nothing Death
Think thou and act
Life! I know not what thou art
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!
The Carriage held but just Ourselves ⎯
And Immortality.
To die, to sleep—
To sleep—perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub!
then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.