Without the hazard of a change, one hour,
Nor such as trust in them can they secure
From dismal days, or Death's prevailing pow'r.
If Beauty could the Beautiful defend
From Death's dominion, then fair Absalom
Had not been brought to such a shameful end:
But fair and foul unto the Grave must come.
If Wealth or Scepters could Immortal make,
Then, wealthy Crœsus, wherefore art thou dead?
If Warlike force which makes the World to quake,