This was the noblest roman of them all.

Now that he has his last faults breathed away

And eyes of pain that hath so recently

Starred, desperate, into the void of Caesar

Fall open, still, and blind, and glistening—

Now that the bloodied blade that killed for Rome

Hath turned toward the shaken hand which wielded it

And guided tearful eyes to emptiness

His sword that pierced with honor struck me so;

That his death hath brought my pride it’s senses.

This was in fact this honorable man

A man that cracked a serpent's harmless egg

Before it’s chance to grow into a ruler.

Would Caesar have ruled with mercy and with peace

Whilst Brutus doth place no reckless means for trust.

And again in the case of Caesar's rule

Would ambition seize up armies at his whim?

Or gentleness supply the needs of poor?

What are we but irritable knaves

When faced with such responsibility

But in the wake of Brutus’ honored life

Methinks but the absolute man may lead

And till he comes no ruler shale know calm.

To combat this come common, goodly men

Who stain pure flesh in sunsets of their fear.

What is it to lead and then to follow?

to be captive to any tyranny?

Wherefore did god create a powr’ as this

That noble men kill and die, themselves, again