 | Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr |  |
350
ROY
Our Prince has gone to his inheritance!
Think it not strange. What if, with slight half-smile,
Some crownèd king to leave his throne should chance,
And try the rough ways of the world awhile?
Think it not strange. What if, with slight half-smile,
Some crownèd king to leave his throne should chance,
And try the rough ways of the world awhile?
Ere he had wearied of its storm and stress,
Would he not hasten to his own again?
Why should he bear its labor and duress,
And all the untold burden of its pain?
Would he not hasten to his own again?
Why should he bear its labor and duress,
And all the untold burden of its pain?
Or what if from the golden palace gate
The king's fair son on some bright morn should stray?
Would he not send his lords of high estate
To lead him back ere fell the close of day?
The king's fair son on some bright morn should stray?
Would he not send his lords of high estate
To lead him back ere fell the close of day?
Even so our King from Heaven's high portals saw
The fair young Prince where earth's dull shades advance,
And sent his messengers of love and law
To bear him home to his inheritance!
The fair young Prince where earth's dull shades advance,
And sent his messengers of love and law
To bear him home to his inheritance!
| Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr | |