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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,
And he said, Who made thee a prince and a judge over us?
intendest thou to kill me, as read more
And he said, Who made thee a prince and a judge over us?
intendest thou to kill me, as thou killedest the Egyptian? And
Moses feared, and said, Surely this thing is known.
O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors!
There is betwixt that smile read more
O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors!
There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.
At length her grace rose and with modest paces
Came to the altar, where she kneeled, and saint-like
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At length her grace rose and with modest paces
Came to the altar, where she kneeled, and saint-like
Cast her fair eyes to heaven and prayed devoutly;
Then rose again and bowed her to the people;
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen,
As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
Laid nobly on her; which performed, the choir
With all the choicest music of the kingdom
Together sung 'Te Deum.' So she parted
And with the same full state packed back again
To York Place, where the feast is held.
A prince without letters is a Pilot without eyes. All his
government is groping.
A prince without letters is a Pilot without eyes. All his
government is groping.
And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's their will.
Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's their will.
Unhappy France! Unhappy King!
[Fr., Malheureuse France! Malheureux roi!]
Unhappy France! Unhappy King!
[Fr., Malheureuse France! Malheureux roi!]
