On the king's gate the moss grew gray; The king came not. They call'd him dead; And made his eldest son, one day, Slave in his father's stead.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
The King's son, who was told that a great princess, whom nobody knew, was come, ran out to receive her. He gave her his hand as she alighted from the coach, and led her into the hall where the company were assembled.
After a hundred years the son of the King then reigning, who was of another family from that of the sleeping Princess, was a-hunting on that side of the country, and he asked what those towers were which he saw in the middle of a great thick wood.
What is high birth to him to whom high birth has never been the theme of his contemplation? What is a throne to him who has never dreamed of a throne?
A filial son to his father can be a traitorous subject to his ruler.
Pale death, with impartial step, knocks at the hut of the poor and the towers of kings.
Lastly, his tomb shall list and founder in the troughs of grass. And none shall speak his name.
Pale Death beats equally at the poor man's gate and at the palaces of kings.
Grave was the man in years, in looks, in word, his locks were grey, yet was his courage green.
Kings are not born: they are made by artificial hallucination.
What, nephew, said the king, is the wind in that door?