He's your young Orbilian schooler,
Your Hereditary Ruler!"
(The Brandenburgers bellow loud applause.)
"My course is right, and glorious is my Cause!!!"
The Prince, the god unable to restrain,
Rose from his chair,
With Jovian air,
And, hanging up his thunderbolts with care,
What time his eagle gave a gruesome glare,
The nectar gulped again and yet again: