AS soon as winter's snow and sleet Have melted in the summer glow, Once more adown the lukewarm street You'll hear his tread, sedate and slow. His coat is fashioned Brummel-wise, His stock and snuff-box wondrous seem; In all his guise you recognize A Monarch of the Old Regime. He pauses at the flower-stand To buy his daily @3boutonniere@1, And haply with his withered hand, That once was counted passing fair, He pats the cheek of Mam'selle Rose, Whose pleasant eyes upon him beam; Then blows a kiss as off he goes, -- A Monarch of the Old Regime. Time was when rose-wreaths crowned his brow, His laugh was light, his smile divine, And many a fluttering heart, I trow, Burnt incense at that kingly shrine. But they have faded in the past, Like shadows of a ghostly dream; Alone of all he lingers last, A Monarch of the Old Regime. The gauntlet still to Age he flings, The kindly smile still lights his face, And all about his being clings The perfume of an old-time grace. Salute him, then, with friendly eye, Respect each trait'rous line and seam. He was a king in days gone by, A Monarch of the Old Regime. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ETERNITY BLUES by HAYDEN CARRUTH A JOYFUL SONG OF FIVE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD BONNYBELL: THE GRAY SPHEX by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN GRANTCHESTER MEADOWS; ON HEARING A SKYLARK SING by GEORGE SANTAYANA APOLLO AT LAX by KAREN SWENSON HYBRIDS OF WAR: A MORALITY POEM: 3. THAILALND by KAREN SWENSON |