"The glories of our blood and state, Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate, Death lays his icy hand on kings. Scepter and crown must tumble down, And, in the dust, be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade."
"Hark, how chimes the passing bell! There's no music to a knell; All the other sounds we hear, Flatter, and but cheat our ear. This doth put us still in mind That our flesh must be resigned, And, a general silence made, The world be muffled in a shade."
5 likes
Source: James Shirley, William Gifford, Alexander Dyce (1833). “The Dramatic Works and Poems: Now First Colledted : in 6 Volumes. Honoria and mammon [u.a.]”, p.452
About the author
Same author
More quotes by James Shirley
"Only the actions of the just, Smell sweet and blossom in their dust."
"The honour is overpaid,When he that did the act is commentator."
"There is no armor against fate."
"Death lays his icy hand on kings."
"There is no armour against fate."