TWO crowned Kings, and One that stood alone With no green weight of laurels round his head, But with sad eyes as one uncomforted, And wearied with man's never-ceasing moan For sins no bleating victim can atone, And sweet long lips with tears and kisses fed. Girt was he in a garment black and red, And at his feet I marked a broken stone Which sent up lilies, dove-like, to his knees. Now at their sight, my heart being lit with flame I cried to Beatrice, "Who are these?" And she made answer, knowing well each name, "Pschylos first, the second Sophocles, And last (wide stream of tears!) Euripides." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FACTORY; 'TIS AN ACCURSED THING! by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON PERSONALITY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE DAWN PATROL by PAUL BEWSHER THE IDLERS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN WE HAVE DREAMED TOO MUCH OF GOLD by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |