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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.
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.
In that fierce light which beats upon a throne.
In that fierce light which beats upon a throne.
Here lies our sovereign lord, the king,
Whose word no man relives on,
Who never said a read more
Here lies our sovereign lord, the king,
Whose word no man relives on,
Who never said a foolish thing,
And never did a wise one.
A crown! what is it?
It is to bear the miseries of a people!
To bear the read more
A crown! what is it?
It is to bear the miseries of a people!
To bear the miseries of a people!
And sink beneath a load of splendid care!
And in the years he reigned; through all the country wide,
There was no cause for weeping, save when read more
And in the years he reigned; through all the country wide,
There was no cause for weeping, save when the good man died.
[Fr., Ce n'est que lorsqu'il expira
Que le peuple, qui l'enterra pleura.]
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,
Over all good things certain, this is sure indeed,
Suffer not the old King, for we know the breed.
Over all good things certain, this is sure indeed,
Suffer not the old King, for we know the breed.
That man is deceived who thinks it slavery to live under an
excellent prince. Never does liberty appear in read more
That man is deceived who thinks it slavery to live under an
excellent prince. Never does liberty appear in a more gracious
form than under a pious king.
[Lat., Fallitur egregio quisquis sub principe credet
Servitutem. Nunquam libertas gratior extat
Quam sub rege pio.]