Approach the life and gird thy frail heart,
With sorrow of countenance delight.
For the God of the dead has his true part,
And so from this death you cannot take flight.
But if you've left the former before might,
You'll say, "Oh death, where is thy fabled sting?"
Rightly so, for once thou were a great king.
A man will die upright, briskly standing,
Expired by wear and tear and not by rust.
As he accepts fate others demanding,
The right to life; ponder, "it is not just!"
A column, his God, by faith he bows to trust.
Have you seen the world happily die?
Believe in life to set thy soul aligh.
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