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By James Shirley. 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.
Poems. 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.
By James Shirley. 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.
The Glories of Our Blood and State is a seventeenth-century poem written by James Shirley. This poem largely focuses on the themes of mortality, death, and the nature of glory and success. The...
May 13, 2011 · War. 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.
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May 13, 2011 · War. The glories of our blood and state A. Are shadows, not substantial things; B. There is no armour against fate; A. Death lays his icy hand on kings. Sceptre and crown C. Must tumble down, C. And in the dust be equal made D. With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
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. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late
