He died 9 years later of tuberculosis. Now that's terrible. But here's the first four paragraphs of LH,A, which is today considered an American classic. I think they are rather elegant, don't you?
"A destiny that leads the English to the Dutch is strange enough; but one that leads from Epsom into Pennsylvania, and thence into the hills that shut in Altamont over the proud coral cry of the cock, and the soft stone smile of an angel, is touched by that dark miracle of chance which makes new magic in a dusty world.
Each of us is all the sums he has not counted: subtract us into nakedness and night again, and you shall see begin in Crete four thousand years ago the love that eneded yesterday in Texas.
The seed of our destruction will blossom in the desert, the alexin of our cure grows by a mountain rock, and our lives are haunted by a Georgia slattern, because a London cutpurse went unhung. Each moment is the fruit fo forty thousand years. The minute -winning days, like flies, buzz home to death, and every moment is a window on all time.
This is a moment:"