‘Tis irony at best! The deed that should be heir
To thoughts, gives thoughts their birth and dies.
Fair heart, sculpt me a face that I shall wear,
Hence, all be seen but none be shown by eyes!
I envy him, who I have placed in state of rest,
For everything I’ve dreamed of, he attained.
Since my success, I feel yet more repressed
For time had ceased, and yet concern remained.
The earth does shake when glory sorrow greets.
Once dust is cleared, the guest puts on the crown.
Don’t trust the lie that kings have softest seats,
The golden throne is harder than the ground.
Remember thus, that every happy blessing
Is always served with contradicting dressing!