Chapter 153 No.153

This alone

Comes of my tiresome talking: Music's throne

Seats somebody whom somebody unseats,

439 And whom in turn-by who knows what new feats

Of strength,-shall somebody as sure push down,

Consign him dispossessed of sceptre, crown,

And orb imperial-whereto?-Never dream

That what once lived shall ever die! They seem

Dead-do