Percy Bysshe Shelley

(1792-1822 / Horsham / England)

I Would Not Be A King


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!

Submitted: Thursday, April 01, 2010

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