When beauty fades and power wanes
And majesty falls bemoaning
Its worthless state and cursed chains
Its fall to Adam owning,
What prevaileth then? The immortal pen
Could write anon and ever
But when tempest come and come again
Would it prove a vain endeavor?
But I say now, with err' unwrit
Not all the works of man endure
The scanderona scripts did not outwit
The flames that consume all impure
But notions of truth, though body burned
Know no time, their form to ashes but returned.
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