"When he is forsaken, Withered and shaken, What can an old man do but die?"

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They say that the Dead die not, but remain Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth. I think they ride the calm mid-heaven, as these, In wise majestic melancholy train, And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas, And men, coming and going on the earth.

— Rupert Brooke