The Two Old Kings
In ruling well what guerdon? Life runs low,
As yonder lamp upon the hour-glass lies,
Waning and wasted. We are great and wise,
But Love is gone; and Silence seems to grow
Along the misty road where we must go.
From summits near the morning star's uprise
Death comes, a shadow from the northern skies,
As, when all leaves are down, there comes the snow.
Brother and King, we hold our last carouse.
One loving-cup we drain and then farewell.
The night is spent: the crystal morning ray
Calls us, as soldiers laurell'd on our brows,
To march undaunted while the clarions swell,
Heroic hearts, upon our lonely way.
In ruling well what guerdon? Life runs low,
As yonder lamp upon the hour-glass lies,
Waning and wasted. We are great and wise,
But Love is gone; and Silence seems to grow
Along the misty road where we must go.
From summits near the morning star's uprise
Death comes, a shadow from the northern skies,
As, when all leaves are down, there comes the snow.
Brother and King, we hold our last carouse.
One loving-cup we drain and then farewell.
The night is spent: the crystal morning ray
Calls us, as soldiers laurell'd on our brows,
To march undaunted while the clarions swell,
Heroic hearts, upon our lonely way.