Niccolo Machiavelli - Poetry of Economics

  Niccolo 

Why Niccolo, do we weep? 

Your premise tyme, has vowed to keep, 

Our leader men, safe from harm, 

Their children wander, arm in arm.

In thought's absence, rules prevail, 

Mighty ships, set assail, 

While burning shores, the conquered land, 

'Tis no more, justice grand?

Therefore not, conscience suffice, 

Nations vain, take glory thrice, 

While leaders dead, and leaders gone, 

Perform the function, Avalon.

Amid innocence, all admit, 

With witless wonder, we do permit, 

Days of happiness, with no regret, 

Your premise 

tyme, 'tis well kept.