1 O DEATH, thou art on every side, Thy thousand gates stand open wide, The weary to receive: Yet I can find no rest for me, I suffer all my misery, And still alas I live! 2 Still my imprison’d spirit waits; In vain for me thy thousand gates Stand open day and night, And other souls their exit make, On every moment’s wings they take Their everlasting flight. 3 Envious I hear the passing bell With sweetly-melancholy knell Their happy change declare: But I can see no end of strife, The’ intolerable