THE KING
Reading edition
Never to rule with an iron stave, Nor a sceptre of gold, But with the skirt of his blue robe brave To keep thee from the cold, And for to hold thee from the grave Within his vesture’s fold, Was made that sovereign that men have These many summers told. And never with gems crowned to be, Nor with sable invest, But with a branch of the brier tree To adorn head and breast; Yea, with a rod of the red rose, And a wreath of the white, He shall the whole of thee enclose For a passing delight. 1915.