1
Death is here and death is there,
Death is busy everywhere,
All around, within, beneath,
Above is death — and we are death.

2
Death has set his mark and seal
On all we are and all we feel,
On all we know and all we fear,

3
First our pleasures die — and then
Our hopes, and then our fears — and when
These are dead, the debt is due,
Dust claims dust — and we die too.

4
All things that we love and cherish,
Like ourselves must fade and perish;
Such is our rude mortal lot —
Love itself would, did they not.