Song from 'Ajax and Ulysses.'
James Shirley
1596 to 1666
Drag the words to the correct places to complete the poem. To reset the game, click on the "Reset Game" button located below the poem. This will clear all the words you've placed in the blanks, returning them to the word bank and resetting the poem to its original state with empty blanks.
The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate;
Death lays his icy hand on kings:
Sceptre ______ crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust ______ equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
______ men with swords may reap the field,
And ______ fresh laurels where they kill;
But their strong nerves ______ last must yield;
They tame but one another still:
Early or late,
They stoop to fate,
______ must give up their murmuring breath,
When they, pale captives, creep to death.
The garlands wither on your brow,
Then boast no more your mighty deeds;
Upon Death's ______ altar now,
See, where the victor-victim bleeds:
______ heads must come
To the cold tomb,
Only ______ actions of the just
Smell sweet, and blossom in ______ dust.