| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | IV. Inevitable
Warwick’s Death | | By William Shakespeare (1564–1616) |
| | From ‘The Third Part of Henry VI’, Act V. Scene 2
THESE eyes, that now are dimmed with death’s black veil, | |
| Have been as piercing as the midday sun, | |
| To search the secret treasons of the world: | |
| The wrinkles in my brows, now fill’d with blood, | |
| Were likened oft to kingly sepulchres; | 5 |
| For who liv’d king, but I could dig his grave? | |
| And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow? | |
| Lo! now my glory smear’d in dust and blood; | |
| My parks, my walks, my manors that I had, | |
| Even now forsake me; and, of all my lands | 10 |
| Is nothing left me but my body’s length. | |
| Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust? | |
| And, live we how we can, yet die we must. | | | | |
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