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Fallen Majesty
| Although crowds gathered once if she but showed her face, | | And even old men’s eyes grew dim, this
hand alone, | | Like some last courtier at a gypsy camping-place | | Babbling of fallen majesty, records what’s
gone. | | | | | | The lineaments, a heart that laughter has made sweet, | | These, these remain, but I record what’s
gone. A crowd | | Will gather, and not know it walks the very street | | Whereon a thing once walked that
seemed a burning cloud. |
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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