Classic Poem

Oh , covet not the throne and crown,
Sigh not for rule and state;
The wise would fling the sceptre down,
And shun the palace gate.

Let wild ambition wing its flight;
Glory is free to all:
But they who soar a regal height
Will risk a deadly fall.

Take any high imperial name,
The great among the great;
What was the guerdon of his fame,
And what his closing fate?

The hero of immortal Greece,
Unhappy, fled to wine,
And died in Saturnalian peace,
As drunkard, fool, and swine.

The first in arms, Rome's victor son,
Fell by a traitor's aim,
And drew the purple robes he'd won
To hide his blood and shame.

Bold Richard, England's lion heart,
Escaped the burning fray,
To sink beneath a peasant's dart,
And groan his life away.

Gaul's eagle, he whose upraised hand
Swayed legions of the brave,
Died in a prison, “barred and banned,”
An exile and a slave.

Scores may be found whose tyrant-time
Knew not one hour of rest;
Their lives one course of senseless crime,
Their every deed unblest.

Ye blazing stars of gems and gold,
What aching hearts ye mock!
Strong marble walls, do ye not hold
Sword, poison, axe, and block?

Many have cursed the crown they've worn,
When, hurled from place and rank,
They met a people's groaning scorn,
And trod the scaffold plank.

“Uneasy lies the monarch's head,”
Despite his dazzling wreath;
The hireling by his dying bed
May aid the work of death.

His cringing horde may bow the neck,
Though bid to lick the dust:
He may have serf to wait his beck,
But not one friend to trust.

Ye lowly born, oh! covet not,
One right the sceptre brings;
The honest name and peaceful lot
Outweigh the pomp of kings