HOW grand he would have stood, had he declined The needless coronet he donned, as though Its gilt could heighten his proud aureole's glow. But downward he has stepped, a seat to find -- Not with the lords of that imperial kind Whose simple manhood, fed by love and truth, Found far from monarchs' courts perennial youth In the ideal gardens of the mind; -- But in a throng of blank nobilities In outward fellowship of lip and eye -- Of empty forms and hollow courtesies; Thou art become as one of us -- they cry. Another shape than thine must now be worn. Son of the morning -- how thy beams are shorn! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOTHING TO WEAR' by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER SPEAKIN' O' CHRISTMAS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ACT 5 (MIDNIGHT) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH LILIES: 10. SOUL-PAIN by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE DRIED MILLPOND by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN DEPARTURE OF THE PIONEER by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD LOVE AND WINE by HENRY CHAPPELL |