L'Ancien Régime.
145
Then a fall from lofty place
Into exile and disgrace:
Justice is never the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A writer brought him truth;
And first he imprisoned the youth;
And then he bestowed a free pyre
That the works might have plenty of fire,
And also to cure the pain
Of the headache called thought in the brain:
Truth is a very bad thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
The people brought their sure
Loyalty fervid and pure;
And he gave them bountiful spoil
Of taxes and hunger and toil,
Ignorance, brutish plight,
And wholesale slaughter in fight:
Loyalty's quite the worst thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
