" Ladies and gentlemen, you have made most remarkable
Progress, and progress, I agree, is a boon;
You have built more automobiles than are parkable,
Crashed the sound-barrier, and may very soon
Be setting up juke-boxes on the Moon:
But I beg to remind you that, despite all that,
I, Death, still am and will always be Cosmocrat.

Still I sport with the young and daring; at my whim,
The climber steps upon the rotten boulder,
The undertow catches boys as they swim,
The speeder steers onto the slippery shoulder:
With others I wait until they are older
Before assigning, according to my humor,
To one a coronary, to one a tumor.

Liberal my views upon religion and race;
Tax-posture, credit-rating, social ambition
Cut no ice with me. We shall meet face to face,
Despite the drugs and lies of your physician,
The costly euphenisms of the mortician:
Westchester matron and Bowery bum,
Both shall dance with me when I rattle my drum. "

― W.H. Auden , Thank You, Fog