Fiddler's Farewell/King's Garden
King's Garden
Who was the royal MingThat bade his tinkling musicians playAll through a wide and windy dayOf springTo the royal flowers?
—BlissOf tall iris,Discreet applauseOf cherry and almond boughsAlong the ledgesOf sun-lacquered hours;Pursed lily-podsOut-lipping one by one,And sudden hushAmid the lushGreen sedges!—
There walked the kingBeneath the quiveringLeaves,The weary players bidden Play on and on,With slight, imperial nods;And in his satin sleevesHis hands, omniscient, hidden,As are the hands of gods.