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Satires of Circumstance, Lyrics and Reveries, with Miscellaneous Pieces
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That I by some was loved so much
Than that I bore,
From others, judgment of that hue
Which over-hope
Breeds from a theoretic view
Of regal scope.
For kingly opportunities
Right many have sighed;
How best to bear its devilries
Those learn who have tried!
I have eaten the fat and drunk the sweet,
Lived the life out
From the first greeting glad drum-beat
To the last shout.
What pleasure earth affords to kings
I have enjoyed
Through its long vivid pulse-stirrings
Even till it cloyed.
What days of drudgery, nights of stress
Can cark a throne,
Even one maintained in peacefulness,
I too have known.
And so, I think, could I step back
To life again,
I should prefer the average track
Of average men,
Since, as with them, what kingship would
It cannot do,
Nor to first thoughts however good
Hold itself true.
Something binds hard the royal hand,
As all that be,
And it is That has shaped, has planned
My acts and me.
May 1910.
THE CORONATION
At Westminster, hid from the light of day,
Many who once had shone as monarchs lay.
Edward the Pious, and two Edwards more,
The second Richard, Henrys three or four;
That is to say, those who were called the Third,
Fifth, Seventh, and Eighth (the much self-widowered),
And James the Scot, and near him Charles the Second,
And, too, the second George could there be reckoned.
Of women, Mary and Queen Elizabeth,
And Anne, all silent in a musing death;
And William’s Mary, and Mary, Queen of Scots,
And consort-queens whose names oblivion blots;
And several more whose chronicle one sees
Adorning ancient royal pedigrees.
– Now, as they drowsed on, freed from Life’s old thrall,
And heedless, save of things exceptional,
Said one: “What means this throbbing thudding sound
That reaches to us here from overground;
“A sound of chisels, augers, planes, and saws,
Infringing all ecclesiastic laws?
“And these tons-weight of timber on us pressed,
Unfelt here since we entered into rest?
“Surely, at least to us, being corpses royal,
A meet repose is owing by the loyal?”
“ – Perhaps a scaffold!” Mary Stuart sighed,
“If such still be. It was that way I died.”
“ – Ods! Far more like,” said he the many-wived,
“That for a wedding ’tis this work’s contrived.
“Ha-ha! I never would bow down to Rimmon,
But I had a rare time with those six women!”
“Not all at once?” gasped he who loved confession.
“Nay, nay!” said Hal. “That would have been transgression.”
“ – They build a catafalque here, black and tall,
Perhaps,” mused Richard, “for some funeral?”
And Anne chimed in: “Ah, yes: it maybe so!”
“Nay!” squeaked Eliza. “Little you seem to know —
Than that I bore,
From others, judgment of that hue
Which over-hope
Breeds from a theoretic view
Of regal scope.
For kingly opportunities
Right many have sighed;
How best to bear its devilries
Those learn who have tried!
I have eaten the fat and drunk the sweet,
Lived the life out
From the first greeting glad drum-beat
To the last shout.
What pleasure earth affords to kings
I have enjoyed
Through its long vivid pulse-stirrings
Even till it cloyed.
What days of drudgery, nights of stress
Can cark a throne,
Even one maintained in peacefulness,
I too have known.
And so, I think, could I step back
To life again,
I should prefer the average track
Of average men,
Since, as with them, what kingship would
It cannot do,
Nor to first thoughts however good
Hold itself true.
Something binds hard the royal hand,
As all that be,
And it is That has shaped, has planned
My acts and me.
May 1910.
THE CORONATION
At Westminster, hid from the light of day,
Many who once had shone as monarchs lay.
Edward the Pious, and two Edwards more,
The second Richard, Henrys three or four;
That is to say, those who were called the Third,
Fifth, Seventh, and Eighth (the much self-widowered),
And James the Scot, and near him Charles the Second,
And, too, the second George could there be reckoned.
Of women, Mary and Queen Elizabeth,
And Anne, all silent in a musing death;
And William’s Mary, and Mary, Queen of Scots,
And consort-queens whose names oblivion blots;
And several more whose chronicle one sees
Adorning ancient royal pedigrees.
– Now, as they drowsed on, freed from Life’s old thrall,
And heedless, save of things exceptional,
Said one: “What means this throbbing thudding sound
That reaches to us here from overground;
“A sound of chisels, augers, planes, and saws,
Infringing all ecclesiastic laws?
“And these tons-weight of timber on us pressed,
Unfelt here since we entered into rest?
“Surely, at least to us, being corpses royal,
A meet repose is owing by the loyal?”
“ – Perhaps a scaffold!” Mary Stuart sighed,
“If such still be. It was that way I died.”
“ – Ods! Far more like,” said he the many-wived,
“That for a wedding ’tis this work’s contrived.
“Ha-ha! I never would bow down to Rimmon,
But I had a rare time with those six women!”
“Not all at once?” gasped he who loved confession.
“Nay, nay!” said Hal. “That would have been transgression.”
“ – They build a catafalque here, black and tall,
Perhaps,” mused Richard, “for some funeral?”
And Anne chimed in: “Ah, yes: it maybe so!”
“Nay!” squeaked Eliza. “Little you seem to know —
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