University of Virginia Library

THE KING IS DEAD.

I.

Sound the great bell!
The King of all the land is cold and dead:
He whom ye knew so well—
Know he hath nought whereon to rest his head,
Now, but the barest stone,
Whereon he lies alone,
Far from all help; life, love, and friendship—fled!

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II.

Sound the great bell!
He whom ye knew in all his radiant power,
The wonder and the pageant of an hour,
Has bade the world farewell;
Let slip his sceptre, doffed his crimson state;
And they, who at his pleasure used to wait,
Carp at his deeds, and tell
The wrongs he did to all,—his queenly mate,
Friends, foes, to Truth, to rank, and every ghost of state.

III.

Some future day, not far,
They'll build a column on the mountain near;
And, in some pander rhyme,
Shape out historian lies for aftertime.
Meanwhile, enlightened by a steadfast star,
I will set down,
In words that may be read by rich and poor,
By all who did his iron rule endure,
The truth (for once) of one who wore a crown.