Victorious men of earth, no more
Proclaim how wide your empires are;
Though you bind in every shore
And your triumphs reach as far
As night or day,
Yet you, proud monarchs, must obey
And mingle with forgotten ashes, when
Death calls ye to the crowd of common men.

(James Shirley (1596-1666), British dramatist. Cupid and Death (l. 23-24). . . Oxford Book of Seventeenth Century Verse, The. H. J. C. Grierson and G. Bullough, eds. (1934) Oxford University Press.)

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:
Sceptre and crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

(James Shirley (1596-1666), British dramatist. The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses (l. 1-8). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.)

Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.

(James Shirley (1596-1666), British dramatist. The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses (l. 23-24). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.)

They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuring breath,
When they, pale captives, creep to death.

(James Shirley (1596-1666), British dramatist. The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses (l. 14-16). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.)