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The trappings of a monarchy would set up an ordinary
commonwealth.
The trappings of a monarchy would set up an ordinary
commonwealth.
Every noble crown is, and on Earth will forever be, a crown of
thorns.
Every noble crown is, and on Earth will forever be, a crown of
thorns.
They say Princes learn no art truly, but the art of horsemanship.
The reason is, the brave beast is read more
They say Princes learn no art truly, but the art of horsemanship.
The reason is, the brave beast is no flatterer. He will throw a
Prince as soon as his groom.
The king reigns but does not govern.
[Fr., Le roi regne, il ne gouverne pas.]
The king reigns but does not govern.
[Fr., Le roi regne, il ne gouverne pas.]
Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom
there is no help.
Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom
there is no help.
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.
'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor
With a hairy old crown on 'er 'ead?
She read more
'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor
With a hairy old crown on 'er 'ead?
She 'as ships on the foam--she 'as millions at 'ome,
An' she pays us poor beggars in red.
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,
