Call not the royal Swede unfortunate
Who never did to Fortune bend the knee;
Who slighted fear,—rejected steadfastly
Temptation; and whose kingly name and state
Have “perished by his choice, and not his fate!”
Hence lives He, to his inner self endeared;
And hence, wherever virtue is revered,
He sits a more exalted Potentate,
Throned in the hearts of men. Should Heaven ordain
That this great Servant of a righteous cause
Must still have sad or vexing thoughts to endure,
Yet may a sympathizing spirit pause,
Admonished by these truths, and quench all pain
In thankful joy and gratulation pure.
– William Wordsworth om Gustav IV Adolf (ur Shorter Poems 1807–1820).