the die is cast, the future written what hope could words to this undo what is to be and is to come is set in stone, come to pass in its time and in its due what plans of conquest could (be) unlaid what victories or defeats recalled from yesterdays gyre and histories of rage those who rose by fortune, and those who fall if even a jot of unworn time could be undone at all and old men who passed at night away give way to children who grew and babes suckled at their mothers breasts who yesterday, born, of nothing knew. and of this world who try in folly to defy God or stand at his gate kings, and things, and common men are but pawns to grim fate. and who could hope to steady father time or waylay death who carries men away or stop the turning of the stars that bring the dawn of morrows day? what becomes of man's dreams and monuments? but monuments to his folly? and tombstones to fate?