It is something to hold the scepter with a firm hand.
[Lat., Est aliquid valida sceptra tenere manu.]

It is something to hold the scepter with a firm hand.
[Lat., Est aliquid valida sceptra tenere manu.]

There was a king of Thule,
Was faithful till the grave,
To whom his mistress dying,
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There was a king of Thule,
Was faithful till the grave,
To whom his mistress dying,
A golden goblet gave.
[Ger., Es war ein Konig in Tule
Gar treu bis an das Grab,
Dem sterbend seine Buhle
Einen gold'nen Becher gab.]

On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They call'd him dead;
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On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They call'd him dead;
And made his eldest son, one day,
Slave in his father's stead.

Unhappy France! Unhappy King!
[Fr., Malheureuse France! Malheureux roi!]

Unhappy France! Unhappy King!
[Fr., Malheureuse France! Malheureux roi!]

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.

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.

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.

Here lies our mutton-looking king,
Whose word no man relied on,
Who never said a foolish thing
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Here lies our mutton-looking king,
Whose word no man relied on,
Who never said a foolish thing
No ever did a wise one.

His legs bestrid the ocean: his reared arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all read more

His legs bestrid the ocean: his reared arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder.