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"Cowards die many times before their deaths,
The valiant never taste of death but once.".

Venus and Adonis

Even as the sun with purple-colour*d face
Had ta*en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laugh*d to scorn;
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-faced suitor begins to woo him.

Thrice-fairer than myself, thus she began,
The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red than doves or roses are;
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.

To My Venus, Spence, NYC