 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. Some men...  The Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine - Strana 3011839Úplné zobrazenie - O tejto knihe
 | William Hone - 1868 - Počet stránok 846
...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,...but one another still. Early or late, They stoop to fat«, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they pale captives creep to Death. The garlands... | |
 | 1826 - Počet stránok 404
...kings : Scepter 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 : Bat their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still. Early or late They... | |
 | William Hone - 1830 - Počet stránok 878
...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,...breath, When they pale captives creep to Death. The garlands wither on your brow ; Then boast no more your mighty deeds : Upon Death's purple altar now... | |
 | Health - 1830 - Počet stránok 336
...be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, Ami plant fresh laurels where they kill; But their strong nerves at last mint yield. They tame but one another still. Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their... | |
 | Henry Stebbing - 1832 - Počet stránok 378
...: 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....or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murm'ring breath, When they pale captives creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast... | |
 | Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1832 - Počet stránok 1022
...scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, [kill; And plant fresh laurels where they But their strong nerves at last must yield — They...breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow — Then boast no more your mighty deeds; Upon Death's purple altar, now,... | |
 | Henry Stebbing - 1832 - Počet stránok 858
...: Sceptre and crown Must tumhle down, And, in the dust, he equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field,...their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame hut one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murm"ring hreath,... | |
 | William Gifford, Sir John Taylor Coleridge, John Gibson Lockhart, Whitwell Elwin, William Macpherson, William Smith, Sir John Murray IV, Rowland Edmund Prothero (Baron Ernle) - 1833 - Počet stránok 586
...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,...breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow ; Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon death's purple altar now,... | |
 | Andrews Norton, Charles Folsom - 1833 - Počet stránok 528
...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,...breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. " The garlands wither on your brow ; Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon death's purple altar now,... | |
 | William Gifford, Sir John Taylor Coleridge, John Gibson Lockhart, Whitwell Elwin, William Macpherson, William Smith, Sir John Murray IV, Rowland Edmund Prothero (Baron Ernle) - 1833 - Počet stránok 594
...Sceptre 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,...breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow ; Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon death's purple altar now,... | |
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