Poems (Trask)/The King and I

by Clara Augusta Jones Trask

THE KING AND I.

The King rules over the country;
 But never a whit care I,
My little meagre dominion
 Is all in my hopeful eye.
He has a million of troubles;
 I am at peace with man,
I have put ill-tempered ambition
 Under eternal ban:
Why should I envy royalty?
 Answer me, if you can!

The Queen smiles on her courtiers,
 The duke's lips press her hand;
My little wife would scorn kisses
 From the noblest in the land!
Given to me her heart is,
 Sacred to me her lips,—
Never dares an admirer
 Press e'en her finger-tips;
And her gentle, wifely beauty
 Puts the Queen in eclipse.

The King is a jovial liver,
 Drinks of the rubiest wine,
Is clothed in the royal ermine
 And linen matchlessly fine;
Has pages to guess his wishes,
 Minions to come at his nod,

And amid his palace royalties
 Rules like a demigod!
Which will lie highest and softest,
 He, or I, under the sod?

Give me my lowly cottage,
 My wife and my brown-eyed girl!
One is my royal diamond,
 The other my priceless pearl!
Go, King! ride, drink, and conquer,
 Joy in your birth and your pride;
I wouldn't lift up a finger
 To sit on the throne by your side!
For God and a true love have blessed me;
 What can I ask for beside?