The Righteous Prince

A Prince is made as all of humankind
Is made -- of bone and sinew, and of flesh,
And as such, feels as others of the race
Both pain and pleasure in the daily lot.
The Prince, no matter power and pomp, cannot
Stay Time, nor order Death. What frailties
Are human, those the human prince must know.
And yet -- about the Monarch there is more
Than human grace on human can bestow.
As base extends in rightful place beneath,
The ordered tiers above support a point
Of prominence preeminent. And sooth,
Upon that point, like lightening to a spire,
Descends the righteous monarchy; the truth
Of Majesty is more than mortal made.
The Crown might thus be said to wear the head
Of him who bears it righteously; and though
The flesh dissolve in time, the Crown endures.
What rite can make a righteous king, indeed?
What ritual invokes descent of grace
Like holy unguent poured, humanity
Immersed in this immortal manifest?
What alkahest removes the peer to leave
A golden majesty enthroned? What is
The righteous Prince if not divinity
Imbuing corporeal form?