The Inexorable Law

We , too, shall pass; we, too, shall disappear,
Ev'n as the mighty nations that have waned
And perished. Not more surely are ordained
The crescence and the cadence of the year,
High-hearted June, October drooped and sere,
Than this grey consummation. We have reigned
Augustly; let our part be so sustained
That in far morns, whose voice we shall not hear,
It may be said: " This Mistress of the sword
And conquering prow, this Empire swoln with spoils,
Yet served the Human Cause, yet strove for Man;
Hers was the purest greatness we record;
We whose ingathered sheaves her tilth foreran:
Whose Peace comes of her tempests, and her toils. "
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