All the Wise Men
The King! The King!
The Third Wise Man
Long is the road but—
A Fourth Wise Man
Brother, see,
There, to the left, a very aisle
Composed of every sort of tree—
The First Wise Man
Still onward—
The Fourth Wise Man
Oak and beech and birch,
Like a church, but homelier than church,
The black trunks for its walls of tile;
Its roof, old leaves; its floor, beech nuts;
The squirrels its congregation—
The Second Wise Man
Tuts!
For still we journey—
The Fourth Wise Man
But the sun weaves
A water-web across the grass,
Binding their tops. You must not pass
The water cobweb.
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