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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-side
Hold 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 smoke
