Date: 1686

"My Guts are grumbling a kind of Tune, Like the Base Pipes of an Organ: I am starv'd into a Substance so thin, that my Body is transparent; you may see my heart, and the appurtenances, hang up here in its mortal Closet, as easily as a Candle in a Lanthorn."

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1742

"Then welcome, Death, thy dreaded harbingers, / Age and Disease: Disease, though long my guest,-- / That plucks my nerves, those tender strings of life; / Which, pluck'd a little more, will toll the bell / That calls my few friends to my funeral."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)