The King
"Farewell, Romance!" the Cave-men said;"With bone well carved he went away,Flint arms the ignoble arrowhead,And jasper tips the spear to-day.Changed are the Gods of Hunt and Dance,And he with these. Farewell, Romance!"
"Farewell, Romance!" the Lake-folk sighed;"We lift the weight of flatling years;The caverns of the mountain sideHold him who scorns our hutted piers.Lost hills whereby we dare not dwell,Guard ye his rest. Romance, farewell!"
"Farewell, Romance!" the Soldier spoke;"By sleight of sword we may not win,But scuffle 'mid uncleanly smokeOf arquebus and culverin.Honour is lost, and none may tellWho paid good blows. Romance, farewell!"
"Farewell, Romance!" the Traders cried;"Our keels ha' lain with every sea;The dull-returning wind and tideHeave up the wharf where we would be;The known and noted breezes swellOur trudging sail. Romance, farewell!"
"Good-bye, Romance!" the Skipper said;"He vanished with the coal we burn;Our dial marks full steam ahead,Our speed is timed to half a turn.Sure as the tidal trains we ply'Twixt port and port. Romance, good-bye!"
"Romance!" the Season-tickets mourn,"He never ran to catch his train,But passed with coach and guard and horn—And left the local—late again!Confound Romance!"... And all unseenRomance brought up the nine-fifteen.
His hand was on the lever laid,His oil-can soothed the worrying cranks,His whistle waked the snowbound grade,His fog-horn cut the reeking Banks;In dock and deep and mine and millThe Boy-god reckless laboured still.
Robed, crowned and throned, he wove his spell,Where heart-blood beat or hearth-smoke curled,With unconsidered miracle,Hedged in a backward-gazing world;Then taught his chosen bard to say:"The King was with us—yesterday!"
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