But all's to no end, for the time will not mend
Till the King enjoys his own again.

But all's to no end, for the time will not mend
Till the King enjoys his own again.

Whatever I can say or do.
I'm sure not much avails;
I shall still Vicar be of read more

Whatever I can say or do.
I'm sure not much avails;
I shall still Vicar be of Bray,
Whichever side prevails.

Ten poor men sleep in peace on one straw heap, as Saadi sings,
But the immensest empire is too read more

Ten poor men sleep in peace on one straw heap, as Saadi sings,
But the immensest empire is too narrow for two kings.

'Tis so much to be a king, that he only is so by being so.
- Michael read more

'Tis so much to be a king, that he only is so by being so.
- Michael Eyquen de Montaigne,

For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
read more

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,

Ah, if I were not king, I should lose my temper.

Ah, if I were not king, I should lose my temper.

I loved no King since Forty One
When Prelacy went down,
A Cloak and Band I then read more

I loved no King since Forty One
When Prelacy went down,
A Cloak and Band I then put on,
And preached against the Crown.

The first art to be learned by a ruler is to endure envy.
[Lat., Ars prima regni posse te read more

The first art to be learned by a ruler is to endure envy.
[Lat., Ars prima regni posse te invidiam pati.]

Hener was the hero-king,
Heaven-born, dear to us,
Showing his shield
A shelter for read more

Hener was the hero-king,
Heaven-born, dear to us,
Showing his shield
A shelter for peace.