Oh would I were dead now,

Or up in my bed now,

To cover my head now,

And have a good cry!

Thomas Hood (1798-1845): A Table of Errata.

And nothing can we call our own but death

And that small model of the barren earth

Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.

For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground

And tell sad stories of the death of kings.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.