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...

   [These verses are said to have “chilled the heart” of Oliver Cromwell.]

THE GLORIES of our blood and state
  Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armor against fate;
  Death lays his icy hand on kings:
      Sceptre and crown
      ...