We often write of cabbages and kings,
Why so, I ask, these are but normal things?
Tis far nobler to sing the praises of
common folk, tomatoes, or of love.
A cabbage is but a greenish lump,
A king may be a wise man or a chump,
But any discerning soul can see
that cabbages or kings may cease to be.
In one swift moment, the blinking of an eye
a cabbage can be cooked, a king can die.
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