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A merry monarch, scandalous and poor.
A merry monarch, scandalous and poor.
 Princes that would their people should do well
 Must at themselves begin, as at the head;
  For read more 
 Princes that would their people should do well
 Must at themselves begin, as at the head;
  For men, by their example, pattern out
   Their limitations, and regard of laws:
    A virtuous court a world to virtue draws. 
 I am the State.
 [Fr., L'etat c'est moi.]  
 I am the State.
 [Fr., L'etat c'est moi.] 
 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.] 
 Knowest thou not that kings have long hands?
 [Lat., An nescis longos regibus esse manus?]  
 Knowest thou not that kings have long hands?
 [Lat., An nescis longos regibus esse manus?] 
 To know how to dissemble is the knowledge of kings.
 [Fr., Savoir dissimuler est le savoir des rois.]  
 To know how to dissemble is the knowledge of kings.
 [Fr., Savoir dissimuler est le savoir des rois.] 
 There was a king of Thule,
 Was faithful till the grave,
  To whom his mistress dying,
 read more 
 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.] 
 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, 
 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.