I would not be a king—enough
Of woe it is to love;
The path to power is steep and rough,
And tempests reign above.
I would not climb the imperial throne;
’Tis built on ice which fortune’s sun
Thaws in the height of noon.
Then farewell, king, yet were I one,
Care would not come so soon.
Would he and I were far away
Keeping flocks on Himalay!

  • 0
  • 0
  •  
  •  
Login to comment...
Email

Other works by Percy Shelley...

Some poets who follow Percy Shelley...

R. L. McCallum *tmarie* Geraldine Sánchez Marnie Lawson saaleha i bamjee SHEENY