He breathed in air, he breathed out light
Charlie Parker was my delight
Anon (c. 1600)
The silver swan who living had no note,
when death approached unlocked her silent throat,
Leaning her breast against the reedy shore,
Thus sung her first and last, and sang no more:
Farewell all joys, O death come close mine eyes,
More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.