Set aside your dewy napkin, dear wife,
For I see in your eyes a calming sway
That soothed me always in our early life
When I could be convinced, but not today.
No longer will my pride-filled subjects gaze
Upon this supreme throne of dread and awe,
But heedlessly pass luxurious days
That openly mock and flout at my law.
Smoke and filth are my tributes here. Those sweet
Spicy wafts and timely slaughters that filled
My senses pure have stopped, and I regreet
The morning sky with all my joy now killed.
So, today, I will sit myself in that regal seat
In all my splendid rage. I will glister
Over them in my robe of flames,
And they will touch the ground. Nor blister,
Burn, nor quenchless thirst upon their bodies soft
Will steer me from this vengeful course once I'm full aloft.
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