A mighty king, long, long ago, With voice of grief and face of woe To his Court Wizard did complain: "Sir Wizard, I am said to reign, But what with councillors, and hordes Of bishops, judges, generals, lords, Prime ministers, and those they call The People, I've no right at all To call my life my own. They talk Of duty, laws and charters, balk My wishes, dog my steps, torment My every hour with precedent, State tactics and prerogative, Till I would rather die than live. I bid thee then, -- if aught I hold Of royal power to bid, -- be bold, Take thou my crown, I grudge it not, And give me in exchange a lot, I care not how confined it be, Wherein is absolute sovereignty!" Then groaned the wizard sad, but still Received the crown against his will, And swift, with wand and astrolabe, he Transformed the king into a baby! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOME-THOUGHTS, FROM ABROAD by ROBERT BROWNING HOME-THOUGHTS, FROM THE SEA by ROBERT BROWNING A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 19. TO AN ATHLETE DYING YOUNG by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN CREDO by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON IN YOUTH IS PLEASURE by ROBERT WEVER TO A DOG by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |