Here you will find the Poem Euthanasia of poet Richard Crashaw
Wouldst see blithe looks, fresh cheeks beguile Age? wouldst see December smile? Wouldst see nests of new roses grow In a bed of reverend snow? Warm thoughts, free spirits, flattering Winter's self into a spring? In sum wouldst see a man that can Live to be old, and still a man? Whose latest and most leaden hours, Fall with soft wings stuck with soft flowers; And, when life's sweet fable ends, Soul and body part like friends; No quarrels, murmurs, no delay - A kiss, a sigh, and so away. This rare one, reader, wouldst thou see? Hark hither! - and thyself be he.
