The Dreamer's Bargain

There and back, again The tale of a dreamer's bargain. "The city, for the King's pine, The Queen, to taste its swine. The brewed I shall have in order A soup in the princess' quarter The order sorting the season's prime, While the priests bless the wine. The Prince, like a poacher's hide, Shall have 'his grace' by my side With sight, marking the missed shots Riding on the hunting chariots. The King, still, I shall call 'the King' A taste of once his hallowed being. These, I do, not of a wishful swine Unrest is the head with the kingly pine"