The King

1
“Farewell, Romance!” the Cave-men said;
  “With bone well carved he went away,
“Flint arms the ignoble arrowhead,
   “And jasper tips the spear to-day.
“Changed are the Gods of Hunt and Dance,
“And he with these. Farewell, Romance!” 
2
“Farewell, Romance!” the Lake-folk sighed;
  “We lift the weight of flatling years;
“The caverns of the mountain-side
  “Hold him who scorns our hutted piers.
“Lost hills whereby we dare not dwell,
“Guard ye his rest. Romance, farewell!” 
3
“Farewell, Romance!” the Soldier spoke;
  “By sleight of sword we may not win,
“But scuffle ’mid uncleanly smoke
  “Of arquebus and culverin.
“Honour is lost, and none may tell
“Who paid good blows. Romance, farewell!” 
4
“Farewell, Romance!” the Traders cried;
  “Our keels ha’ lain with every sea;
“The dull-returning wind and tide
  “Heave up the wharf where we would be;
“The known and noted breezes swell
“Our trudging sail. Romance, farewell!” 
5
“Good-bye, Romance!” the Skipper said;
  “He vanished with the coal we burn;
“Our dial marks full steam ahead,
  “Our speed is timed to half a turn.
“Sure as the ferried barge we ply
“’Twixt port and port. Romance, good-bye!” 
6
“Romance!” the season-tickets mourn,
   “He never ran to catch his train,
“But passed with coach and guard and horn—
  “And left the local—late again!”
Confound Romance! . . . And all unseen
Romance brought up the nine-fifteen. 
7
His hand was on the lever laid,
  His oil-can soothed the worrying cranks,
His whistle waked the snowbound grade,
  His fog-horn cut the reeking Banks;
By dock and deep and mine and mill
The Boy-god reckless laboured still! 
8
Robed, crowned and throned, he wove his spell,
  Where heart-blood beat or hearth-smoke curled,
With unconsidered miracle,
   Hedged in a backward-gazing world;
Then taught his chosen bard to say:
“Our King was with us—yesterday!”

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