Canto LXXX
I wage not any feud with DeathFor changes wrought on form and face;No lower life that earth’s embraceMay breed with him, can fright my faith,
Eternal process moving on,From state to state the spirit walks;And these are but the shatter’d stalksOr ruined chrysalis of one.
Nor blame I Death, because he bareThe use of virtue out of earth;I know transplanted human worthWill bloom to profit, otherwhere.
For this alone on Death I wreakThe wrath that garners in my heart;He put our lives so far apartWe cannot hear each other speak.