Pale Death

Pale Death with even tread knocks at the threshold of rich and poor.

This spake Voïvode Momtchilo, struggling with pale death: this he said and his soul flew heavenward.

Pale death knocks at the cottages of the poor, and the palaces of kings, with an impartial foot.

Pale Death himself started, and turned still paler with wonder and amazement.

Presently the impress of pale death was unmistakably settled on her calm brow.