And because even I can't live in perpetual gloom:
Lady, when your lovely head
Droops to sink among the Dead,
And the quiet places keep
You that so divinely sleep;
Then the dead shall blessed be
With a new solemnity,
For such Beauty, so descending,
Pledges them that Death is ending.
Sleep your fill—but when you wake
Dawn shall over Lethe break.
--Hilaire Belloc, "On a Sleeping Friend."
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Be reasonably civil. Ire alloyed with reason is fine. But slagging the host gets you the banhammer.