When his life was closing
The enchantment and charm
Grew phenomenally, like a bird in flight.
One after-life is better than all,
For dying is death done!
The brave speech muttered is uttered,
Forsaking all requests for all of the time.
This hour is final for him,
Like a steward for any man to care,
He is so dead that dying is artful.
O the charm in manners of the pen!