Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the sea; they live in one another still. For they must needs be present, that love and live in that which is omnipresent. In the glass we see face to face; and our coverse is free, as well as pure. This is comfort of lovers, that through he may be said to die, yet their love are, in the best sense, ever present, because immortal.——————————————— Good night.