The foolish ofttimes teach the wise: I strain too much this string of life, belike, Meaning to make such music as shall save. Mine eyes are dim now that they see the truth, My strength is waned now that my need is most; Would that I had such help as man must have, For I shall die, whose life was all men's hope.

When you look at it, we definitely didn't help ourselves. From that aspect, those things can be turned around. That's what we hope to do these next games; try not to put ourselves in a hole.

For death, Now I know, is that first breath Which our souls draw when we enter Life, which is of all life center

Shall any gazer see with mortal eyes, Or any searcher know by mortal mind? Veil after veil will lift -but here must be Veil upon veil behind

Sweetest smile is made saddest tear-drop!

He who died at Azan sends This to comfort all this friends: Faithful friends! It lies I know Pale and white and cold as snow; And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!" Weeping at the feet and head. I can see your falling tears, I can hear your sighs and prayers; Yet I smile and whisper this: I am not the thing you kiss. Cease your tears and let it lie; It was mine--it is not I.