MID the tawdry purple and tinsel bright, With a mimic crowd bowing low at his feet, In crown and sceptre of gilt bedight, And a poor robe falling in fold and pleat, He stalks on the stage and takes a seat. Ah, well, let him prosper while he may: The curtain's soon down, for the hours are fleet, And the king's but a beggar after the play. In his borrowed plumage, poor, shallow cheat, He struts the stage with a strange conceit; But let him prosper while he may, The king's but a beggar after the play. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOURNEY by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 14 by OMAR KHAYYAM THE STALLION OF NIGHT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: A LESSON IN HUMILITY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A PEASANT WOMAN'S SONG by DION BOUCICAULT AN INDIAN AT THE BURIAL PLACE OF HIS FATHERS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |