............Death............
......... By W.B. Yeats .........
................................................

Nor dread nor hope attend
a dying animal;
A man awaits his end
Dreading and hoping all;
Many times he died
Many times rose again.
A great man in his pride
Confronting murderous men
Casts derision upon
Supersession of breath;
He knows death to the bone -
Man has created death.

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