Woe, woe to him whose birth is high,
For peril waits on royalty!
Now storms have bent thee to the ground,
And envious ivy clips thee round;
And shepherd hinds in wanton play
Have stripped thy needful bark away;
Woe to the man whose foes are strong,
Thrice woe to him who lives too long!
Reginald Heber. Robert of Normandy, about 1107.