When first thou wert an exile from thy home,
Unbroken was thy strength, thy health not wasted;
But couldst thou now endure to roam,
When both thy health and strength thou hast outlasted?
With peace and plenty to thy throne restored,
Perchance thou deem’st thyself adored:
Thou seest around thee subjects bending low;
But should misfortune now return,
Be sure thou soon shalt know
Thyself their hate, and all thy race their scorn.