Interlude

You rulers below the low-hanging brand,
Whose mien and reach, over the nations command,
I pray for your happiness, and even more so,
That you be happy when its your time to go;
For no immortal master, no imp for the throne,
Can his mien and reach uphold with power alone;
For though no cunning Caesar ever fleetly failed,
Rare's the king that stayed and saw his heirs die;
And no man of stone ever has on the throne prevailed,
And none living passed before Time's scrying eye.
So, you undying Caesars below the swords,
I hope you find no pleasure from empty words.