A Craven

I who was crowned King am now bereft
  Of crown and treasure.
I, who was  Monarch,  have no good  thing left
  To give me pleasure.

I had my treasure guarded faithfully,
  By one sure heart—
My crown seemed mine to all eternity
  But both depart.
I am discrowned and my treasure flies
Out of these arms, away from these sad eyes.

I faced the world and proved myself a man, 
  In word & deed.
I knew my treasure safe and foremost ran
  To others' need.
What comfort can I give thee now O friend—
Seeing both crown & treasure are at end?

Oh give me back my old life's crown again,
  My old life's treasure—
I have been tested and I shrank the pain
  Let me taste pleasure—
O give me back my treasure in my breast—
Only for this life—God shall judge the rest—

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