Well, see for all your sly offers that great blond dolt gapes and gapes over your bait, never closing to it.
"The Unknown Sea"
Clemence Housman
But it still gapes above.
"The Blue Pavilions"
Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
Our joys, our toils, our honours meet In the milk-white and wormy winding-sheet: A short-lived hope, unceasing care, Some heartless scraps of godly prayer, A moody curse, and a frenzied sleep Ere gapes the grave's unclosing deep, A tyrant's dream, a coward's start, The ice that clings to a priestly heart, A judge's frown, a courtier's smile, Make the great whole for which we toil; And, brother, whether thou or I Have done the work of misery, It little boots: thy toil and pain, Without my aid, were more than vain; And but for thee I ne'er had sate The guardian of Heaven's palace gate.
"The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Volume III"
Percy Bysshe Shelley Edited by Thomas Hutchinson, M. A.