Iii

Little boaster, vagrant king, Neither north nor south is yours, You've no kingdom that endures! Wandering every fall and spring, With your ruby crown so slender, Are you only a Pretender, Landless king?

Never king by right divine Ruled a richer realm than mine! What are lands and golden crowns, Armies, fortresses and towns, Jewels, sceptres, robes and rings,-- What are these to song and wings? Everywhere that I can fly, There I own the earth and sky; Everywhere that I can sing. There I'm happy as a king.

1900.