For God's Sake, Let Us Sit upon the Ground
Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)

  For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground
  And tell sad stories of the death of kings:
  How some have been deposed; some slain in war;
  Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;
  Some poison'd by their wives; some sleeping kill'd;
  All murder'd:  for within the hollow crown
  That rounds the mortal temples of a king
  Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits,
  Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,
  Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
  To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks,
  Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
  As if this flesh which walls about our life
  Were brass impregnable, and humour'd thus
  Comes at the last and with a little pin
  Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!

Richard II, III.ii.155-170 (Richard)