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.

James Shirley


Author Profession: Dramatist
Nationality: English
Born: 1596
Died: October 29, 1666


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