O! grief hath chang'd me, since you saw me last;

And careful hours, with Time's deforméd hand

Have written strange departures in my face.
t. Comedy of Errors. Act V. Sc. 1.
She looks upon his lips, and they are pale;
She takes him by the hand, and that is cold;
She whispers in his ears a heavy tale,
As if they heard the woful words she told;
She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes,
Where, lo! two lamps, burnt out, in
darkness lies.