[Lyric] King of Kings (Herbert E. Clarke)

O Death, Death, Death! Thou art the Lord of all,
And at Thy temple, where for Thee are shed
Man's blood and tears: gods, kings, and temples fall;
Thy reign, O Lord, is immemorial:
Ever thou waxest stronger and more dread,
More populous grows Thy kingdom of the dead,
And joy and love and hope Thou hast in thrall.
We follow vain desires and idle things,
We vex our souls with hollow hopes and fears,
We dread the future and regret the past:
Thou comest, O Almighty, King of kings,
And stillest all the tumult of the years,
And tak'st each babbler to thy breast at last.