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A poem by Thomas Hardy |
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The Coronation |
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Title: The Coronation Author: Thomas Hardy [More Titles by Hardy] At Westminster, hid from the light of day, Edward the Pious, and two Edwards more, That is to say, those who were called the Third, And James the Scot, and near him Charles the Second, Of women, Mary and Queen Elizabeth, And William's Mary, and Mary, Queen of Scots, And several more whose chronicle one sees - Now, as they drowsed on, freed from Life's old thrall, Said one: "What means this throbbing thudding sound "A sound of chisels, augers, planes, and saws, "And these tons-weight of timber on us pressed, "Surely, at least to us, being corpses royal, "--Perhaps a scaffold!" Mary Stuart sighed, "--Ods! Far more like," said he the many-wived, "Ha-ha! I never would bow down to Rimmon, "Not all at once?" gasped he who loved confession. "--They build a catafalque here, black and tall, And Anne chimed in: "Ah, yes: it maybe so!" "Clearly 'tis for some crowning here in state, "Though we'd no such a power of carpentry, "If I were up there where the parsons sit, "But you are not," Charles chuckled. "You are here, "Yea," whispered those whom no one had addressed; "And here, alas, in darkness laid below, 1911. [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |