Ode LXXX: Is there for a man any

Is there for a man any protector against the Daughters of Time? or is there any magician who can charm away from him the fated doom of Death ?

They combed my hair — but it was not combed because it was dishevelled ; and they clad me in clothes that bore no signs of wear ;

And they lifted me up and said — ' What a man was he ! ' and they wrapped me in a winding-sheet as though I were a folded napkin [with which children play] ;

And they sent young men of their best in general regard, to dispose in a seemly way my limbs in a grave in the dust.

Moderate thy grief: be not excessive in thy pity for me: for verily our property goes to the heir that comes after us.