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O Richard! O my king!
The universe forsakes thee!
O Richard! O my king!
The universe forsakes thee!
Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which cause good or evil
times; and which have much veneratoin, but no read more
Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which cause good or evil
times; and which have much veneratoin, but no rest.
And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
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,
A prince, the moment he is crown'd,
Inherits every virtue sound,
As emblems of the sovereign power,
read more
A prince, the moment he is crown'd,
Inherits every virtue sound,
As emblems of the sovereign power,
Like other baubles in the Tower:
Is generous, valiant, just, and wise,
And so continues till he dies.
The gates of monarchs
Are arched so high that giants may jet through
And keep their impious read more
The gates of monarchs
Are arched so high that giants may jet through
And keep their impious turbans on without
Good morrow to the sun.
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.
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.
