Shakespeare.    

	Within the hollow crown
	That rounds the mortal temples of a king,
	Keeps death his court; and there the antick sits,
	Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp.

Shakespeare.    

	A crown
	Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns;
	Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights
	To him who wears the regal diadem,
	When on his shoulders each man’s burden lies;
	For therein stands the office of a king,
	His honor, virtue, merit, and chief praise,
	That for the public all this weight he bears.

Milton.