Classic Poem

If to dwell within a palace,
Out of reach of want or malice,
Is a king to be;
If the loftier one's storey,
Higher soars one's earthly glory,
Few are kings like me.

Though a monarch I've no nation
To preserve from grim starvation,—
I no uproar fear;
But throughout my city stately
Suffered am to walk sedately,
Free from scowl or sneer.

Me surround no courtiers pettish,
With their capers etiquettish,
Ceremonious, cold;
Jealous heart-burns ill concealing,
None, because the other, kneeling,
Doth my slippers hold.

Mine's a life of royal pleasure;
All my days are days of leisure,
All the nights the same;
When I take an extra bottle,
Cares my throat-latch never throttle,
No one cries out “Shame!”

And the visions of my slumber
Haggard faces ne'er encumber;
At my will I rise,
And whene'er it suits my fancy,
Rolls and coffee brings up Nancy
With the dark-blue eyes.

From my larder's tempting plenty,
Dine alone or dine with twenty
Or a hundred guests;
Sit till our convivial laughter
Shakes the glasses, thrills the rafter,
Mingling songs and jests.

Servants many round the table;
Many grooms within the stable;
Nay, a commodore,
With his word and gesture serious,
On the quarter-deck imperious,
Is not worshipped more

Of all this the glad fruition
Hold I upon one condition,
Sometimes hard to fill—
Hard as chancellor must drudge it
When compelled to shape his budget,—
I MUST PAY MY BILL .