What is a king? a man condemn'd to bear
The public burthen of the nation's care.

What is a king? a man condemn'd to bear
The public burthen of the nation's care.

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.

For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.

For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.

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.

Hail, glorious edifice, stupendous work!
God bless the Regent, and the Duke of York.

Hail, glorious edifice, stupendous work!
God bless the Regent, and the Duke of York.

The trappings of a monarchy would set up an ordinary
commonwealth.

The trappings of a monarchy would set up an ordinary
commonwealth.

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.

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,

The first art to be learned by a ruler is to endure envy.
[Lat., Ars prima regni posse te read more

The first art to be learned by a ruler is to endure envy.
[Lat., Ars prima regni posse te invidiam pati.]