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The days of glory have decayed the earth has spilled its splendourThere are no captains now, no kingsgold givers such as once there werethe lords who lived to purchase fame and utmost laud among their peersVirtue is fallen, visions are fadedThe weak are left to hold this worldworn low. The flower of the field is old the leaf is withered and the laurel sere Throughout this middle isthmus man meets age hoar-headed, bleak of face by former friends forsaken, grieving over scions of lineage long since gone
The days of glory have decayed the earth has spilled its splendourThere are no captains now, no kingsgold givers such as once there werethe lords who lived to purchase fame and utmost laud among their peers
Virtue is fallen, visions are fadedThe weak are left to hold this worldworn low. The flower of the field is old the leaf is withered and the laurel sere Throughout this middle isthmus man meets age hoar-headed, bleak of face by former friends forsaken, grieving over scions of lineage long since gone
leonardo da vinci leonardo da vinci
leonardo da vinci