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.

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.

At length her grace rose and with modest paces
Came to the altar, where she kneeled, and saint-like
read more

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.

Why, our battalia trebles that account:
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength,
Which they read more

Why, our battalia trebles that account:
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength,
Which they upon the adverse faction want.

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.

The Prussian Sovereigns are in possession of a crown not be the
grace of the people, but by God's read more

The Prussian Sovereigns are in possession of a crown not be the
grace of the people, but by God's grace.

St. George he was for England; St. Dennis was for France.
Sing, "Honi soit qui mal y pense."

St. George he was for England; St. Dennis was for France.
Sing, "Honi soit qui mal y pense."

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.

Kings are like stars--they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.

Kings are like stars--they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.