Amid the cloistered gloom of Aachen's aisle Stood Otho, Germany's imperial lord, Regarding,- with a melancholy smile, A simple stone, where, fitly to record A world of action by a single word, Was graven "Carlo-Magno." Regal style Was needed none; that name such thoughts restored As sadden, yet make nobler, men the while, They rolled the marble back. With sudden gasp, A moment o'er the vault the Kaiser bent, Where still a mortal monarch seemed to reign. Crowned on his throne, a scepter in his grasp, Perfect in each gigantic lineament, Otho looked face to face on Charlemagne. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BATTLE-CRIES by LOUIS UNTERMEYER TO SIR HENRY WOTTON (1) by JOHN DONNE THE FAIRIES OF THE CALDON LOW; A MIDSUMMER LEGEND by MARY HOWITT GIVE ME THE SPLENDID SILENT SUN by WALT WHITMAN THE HOUSE-WARMING; A LEGEND OF BLEEDING-HEART YARD by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |