Esther

Sire, love seeks nothing that kings can bestow. Love is the king of all kings here below; Love makes the monarch but a bashful boy, Love makes the peasant monarch in his joy; Love seeks not place, all places are the same, When lighted by the radiance of love’s flame. Who deems proud love could fawn to power and splendour Hath known not love, but some base-born pretender.