I give this heavy weight from off my head
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
The read more

I give this heavy weight from off my head
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart.
With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
With mine own breath release all duty's rites.

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.

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.

Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's their will.

Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's their will.

A prince, the moment he is crown'd,
Inherits every virtue sound,
As emblems of the sovereign power,
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A prince, the moment he is crown'd,
Inherits every virtue sound,
As emblems of the sovereign power,
Like other baubles in the Tower:
Is generous, valiant, just, and wise,
And so continues till he dies.

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 gates of monarchs
Are arched so high that giants may jet through
And keep their impious read more

The gates of monarchs
Are arched so high that giants may jet through
And keep their impious turbans on without
Good morrow to the sun.

In good King Charles's golden days
When royalty no harm meant,
A zealous high-churchman was I,
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In good King Charles's golden days
When royalty no harm meant,
A zealous high-churchman was I,
And so I got preferment.

Every monarch is subject to a mightier one.
[Lat., Omnes sub regno graviore regnum est.]

Every monarch is subject to a mightier one.
[Lat., Omnes sub regno graviore regnum est.]