Our Fame is in men's breath, our lives upon
Less than their breath; our durance upon days[bi]
Our days on seasons; our whole being on
Something which is not us![56]—So, we are slaves,
The greatest as the meanest—nothing rests
Upon our will; the will itself no less[bj]
Depends upon a straw than on a storm;360
And when we think we lead, we are most led,[57]
And still towards Death, a thing which comes as much
Without our act or choice as birth, so that