Cymbeline Paroles

Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages

Golden lads and girls all must,

As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.



The sceptre, learning, physic, must

All follow this and come to dust.



Fear no more the frown o' th' great;

Thou art past the tyrant's stroke

Care no more to clothe and eat;
All follow this and come to dust.



All lovers young, all lovers must

Consign to thee and come to dust.



Fear no more the lightning flash,

Nor th' all-dreaded thunder-stone;

Fear not slander, censure rash;

Thou hast finished joy and moan.

All lovers young, all lovers must

Consign to thee and come to dust.