From the slow march and muffled drum And crowds distrest, And book and bell, at length I have come To my full rest.
A ten years' rule beneath the sun Is wound up here, And what I have done, what left undone, Figures out clear.
Yet in the estimate of such It grieves me more That I by some was loved so much Than that I bore, From others, judgment of that hue Which over-hope Breeds from a theoretic view Of regal scope.
For kingly opportunities Right many have sighed;
How best to bear its devilries Those learn who have tried!
I have eaten the fat and drunk the sweet, Lived the life out From the first greeting glad drum-beat To the last shout.
What pleasure earth affords to kings I have enjoyed Through its long vivid pulse-stirrings Even till it cloyed.
What days of drudgery, nights of stress Can cark a throne, Even one maintained in peacefulness, I too have known.
And so, I think, could I step back To life again, I should prefer the average track Of average men, Since, as with them, what kingship would It cannot do, Nor to first thoughts however good Hold itself true.
Something binds hard the royal hand, As all that be, And it is That has shaped, has planned My acts and me.
May 1910.
