Man Speaker monologue (Act 3) — Dalziels' Illustrated Goldsmith

Yet let that wisdom, urged by her example, Teach us to estimate what all must suffer; Let us prize death as the best gift of nature, As a safe inn, where weary travellers, When they have journey'd through a world of cares, May put off life and be at rest for ever. Groans, weeping friends, indeed, and gloomy sables, May oft distract us with their sad solemnity: The preparation is the executioner. Death, when unmask'd, shows me a friendly face, And is a terror only at a distance; For as the line of life conducts me on To Death's great court, the prospect seems more fair. 'Tis Nature's kind retreat, that's always open To take us in when we have drain'd the cup Of life, or worn our days to wretchedness. In that secure, serene retreat, Where, all the humble, all the great, Promiscuously recline; Where, wildly huddled to the eye, The beggar's pouch and prince's purple lie, May every bliss be thine. And, ah! blest spirit, wheresoe'er thy flight, Through rolling worlds, or fields of liquid light, May cherubs welcome their expected guest, May saints with songs receive thee to their rest; May peace, that claim'd while here thy warmest love, May blissful, endless peace be thine above!