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Kings are like stars--they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.
Kings are like stars--they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.
What is a king? a man condemn'd to bear
The public burthen of the nation's care.
What is a king? a man condemn'd to bear
The public burthen of the nation's care.
Many a crown
Covers bald foreheads.
Many a crown
Covers bald foreheads.
The rule
Of the many is not well. One must be chief
In war and one the read more
The rule
Of the many is not well. One must be chief
In war and one the king.
When kings are building, draymen have something to do.
[Ger., Wenn die Konige bau'n, haben die Karrner zu thun.]
When kings are building, draymen have something to do.
[Ger., Wenn die Konige bau'n, haben die Karrner zu thun.]
I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute,
From the centre read more
I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute,
From the centre all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.
For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.
The King is dead! Long live the King!
The King is dead! Long live the King!
For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
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For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
How some have been deposed, some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed,
Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed--
All murdered; for within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp;
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks;
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which walls about our life
Were brass impregnable; and humored thus,
Comes at the last, and with a little pin
Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn reverence, Throw away respect,
Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;
For you have but mistook me all this while.
I live with bread like you, feel want, taste grief,
Need friends. Subjected thus,