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I dreamed of many things
Of carriages and wings
Of song birds that could sing
And while I was called a king
I held the world

I danced to many tunes
Carved on stone of ancient runes
Played by sun in early noon
And though I laughed to mild swoon
I held the world

I cried for many reasons
At the changing of the seasons
At the pain of bitter treason
Yet as life began to ease on
I held the world

I wrote of many tales
Of the forests and the whales
And if I should ever fail
I can softly, loudly, hail
I held the world

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