When punctual death comes knocking at the door,
To lead the soul upon the unknown road,
There is one crown, one only, never flung
Back to the dust by his fastidious hand.
Touched by this crown, a man is king indeed,
And carries fate and freedom in his breast;
And when his house of clay falls ruining,
His soul is out upon the path of stars!
This is the one thing stronger than the years
That tear the kingdoms down. Imperious time,