"Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the moon and the west wind".
I read this poem a lot when I was in my late teens, and death was far away and not part of my universe, and yet; a stream of small deaths seemed to be happening all the time, and those who had died and been lost formed a constant backdrop of sorrow.
"they shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad, they shall be sane"
(If you'd like hear the poem, with some interesting, but disturbing imagery, clickk on this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SNUTEJB78lg&feature=youtube_gdata_player)