Death where is thy sting? Love, where is thy glory?
Who would be so mocked with glory, or to live But in a dream of friendship, To have his pomp and all what state compounds But only painted, like his varnished friends?
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes.
O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness.
But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
Like madness is the glory of life.
Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself Till by broad spreading it disperse to naught
I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting.
Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, till, by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness, and from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting.
You may my Glories and my State depose, But not my Griefes; still I am King of those.