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On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They call'd him dead;
And read more
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.
I'd like to be a queen in people's hearts but I don't see myself
being Queen of this country.
I'd like to be a queen in people's hearts but I don't see myself
being Queen of this country.
And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
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.]
For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
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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,
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.]
A crown is merely a hat that lets the rain in.
A crown is merely a hat that lets the rain in.
A merry monarch, scandalous and poor.
A merry monarch, scandalous and poor.
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.