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FRAGMENT: ‘I WOULD NOT BE A KING’.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 2nd edition.]

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!

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