Fragment: 'I would not be a king'

I would not be a king—enough

      Of woe it is to love;

The path to power is steep and rough,

      And tempests reign above.

I would not climb the imperial throne;

'Tis built on ice which fortune's sun

      Thaws in the height of noon.

Then farewell, king, yet were I one,

      Care would not come so soon.

Would he and I were far away

Keeping flocks on Himalay!