Here you see, as in a glass,
Death and Florence grip and pass.
One was scornful as a maid
In her bravery fresh array'd:
One was brawny, hearted brass—
Which look'd longer, Death or lass?
Gentles, you and Death and I
Have a friendly fall to try.
He is masterful and plays
Steadily; looks not for praise,
Heeds no blame. Your head is high,
High as mine—but by and bye?
