Behold, the architecture of your life

Alive, in these bones

Passing into my hands

How you speak to me of Tyre and Sodom!

O, sound the ram’s horn of Jericho’s passing!

Make the heavens shake, and below, the Devils cry!

Each man must die, each city fall

To kiss our Mother Death, laughing, in her pall.

—Justin Gravesend, from Mother Death Speaks