A death poem found in David Hume’s Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, which I read for a Problem of God class. This poem is recited by one of the characters as evidence for his case that there is no justice or mercy in the universe: death stands triumphant over the suffering masses, yet refuses to deliver the final coup de grace. I like the striking imagery, as well as how it is used in the wider context of the book. It makes a compelling argument that perhaps the only thing scarier than the prospect of death is to believe that death is purposefully extending your life for his own vanity.
