Triptych

1
Now I am come to that strange place
Where those must come who wait for
  death:
We expect no familiar face,
But one who takes away our breath.

So welcome to the visitor
Who comes but once, and as a friend,
Seen only as an open door
Through which we go to find our end.

He brings release, after so long
In business and captivity,
And when we go where we belong
- In manus tuas - we are free.

2
We live within, although we hope,
Ambitiously, to live without,
In the world where we only grope,
...