To the dust you will return!

(Horatius Bonar, "The Mortal and the Immortal")

"For the wages of sin is death." Romans 6:23

"All your life you will sweat to produce food, until your
 dying day. Then you will return to the ground from
 which you came. For you were made from dust, and
 to the dust you will return." Genesis 3:19

Ours is a dying world.

We dwell in a world of death--in a land of graves.

Immortality has no place upon this earth.

That which is deathless is beyond these hills.

Mortality is here; immortality is yonder!

Mortality is below; immortality is above!

Earth is a vast grave-yard.

At every moment, one of the sons of Adam passes
from this life. At each swing of the pendulum is
the death-warrant of some child of time. "Death!
Death!" it says, unceasingly, as it oscillates to and fro.

The gate of death stands ever open--it has neither
locks nor bars.

The river of death flows sullenly past our dwellings.
We continually hear the splash and the cry of one, and
another, and another, as they are flung into the rushing
torrent--and carried down to the sea of eternity!

Earth is full of death-beds. The groan of pain is heard
everywhere--in cottage or castle--in prince's palace or
peasant's hut. The tear of parting is seen falling everywhere.
The rich and poor, good and evil, are called to weep over the
death of beloved kindred, husband or wife, or child, or friend.

Who can bind the strong man that he shall not lay his
hand upon us or our beloved ones?

Who can say to sickness--'You shall not touch my body!'
Or to pain--'You shall not come near me!'
Or to death--'You shall not enter my home!'

Who can light up the dimmed eye,
or re-color the faded cheek,
or re-invigorate the icy hand,
or bid the sealed lip open,
or the stiffened tongue speak once
more, the words of warm affection?

Who can enter the death-chamber, and speak,
"Little girl, I say to you, get up!"

Who can look into the coffin, and say, "Young man, arise!"

Who can go into the tomb, and say, "Lazarus, come forth!"

The voice of death is heard everywhere. Not only from the
coffin, nor the funeral procession, nor the dark vault, nor
the heaving churchyard. Death springs up all around.

Each season speaks of death.
The dropping spring-blossom;
the scorched leaf of summer;
the ripe sheaf of autumn;
the chill winter cold--all tell of death.
The wild storm, with its thick clouds and hurrying shadows;
the sharp lightning, bent on smiting;
the dark torrent, ravaging field and valley;
the cold sea wave;
the crumbling rock;
the up-torn tree--all speak of death and corruption.

Earth numbers its grave-yards by hundreds of thousands; and
the sea covers the dust of uncounted millions, who, coffined
and uncoffined--have gone down into its unknown darkness.

Death reigns over earth and sea; city and village are his.

Into every house this last enemy has entered, in spite
of man's desperate efforts to keep him out. There is . . .
  no family without some empty seat or crib;
  no garden without some faded rose;
  no forest without some sere leaf;
  no tree without some shattered bough;
  no harp without some broken string.

There is no exemption from this necessity.
There is no discharge in this war.

The old man dies; but the young also.

The grey head and the golden head,
are laid in the same cold clay.

The wicked dies; so also does the godly. The common
earth from which they sprang, receives them both.

The fool dies; so also does the wise.

The poor man dies; so also does the rich.

"I will ransom them from the power of the grave;
 I will redeem them from death. Where, O death,
 are your plagues? Where, O grave, is your
 destruction?" Hosea 13:14

"For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of
 God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord."
     Romans 6:23

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be
 no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the
 old order of things has passed away." Revelation 21:4

No failing of eyesight;
no wrinkles on their brow;
no hollowness in their cheeks;
no grey hairs upon their heads;
no weariness of limbs;
no languor of spirit;
no drying up of their rivers of pleasure.