Song from 'Ajax and Ulysses.'
James Shirley
1596 to 1666
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. Take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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They tame but one another still:
See, where the victor-victim bleeds:
The garlands wither on your brow,
Must tumble down,
To the cold tomb,
And in the dust be equal made
They stoop to fate,
When they, pale captives, creep to death.
Then boast no more your mighty deeds;
But their strong nerves at last must yield;
There is no armour against fate;
Death lays his icy hand on kings:
Some men with swords may reap the field,
Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust.
And must give up their murmuring breath,
Upon Death's purple altar now,
The glories of our blood and state
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Sceptre and crown
And plant fresh laurels where they kill;
Early or late,
Are shadows, not substantial things;
Your heads must come
Only the actions of the just