Authority forgets a dying king.

Authority forgets a dying king, Laid widow'd of the power in his eye That bow'd the will.

By blood a king, in heart a clown.

It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me

To many-towered Camelot

The shell must break before the bird can fly.