The Death of the King, by Florence Peacock

The Death of the King

"Throw my royal robes around me, "
Said the king.
"Since I might not die in battle
I will bring
No faint heart to meet my latest foe;
Death shall see
That although I needs must follow,
It shall be
As a monarch I will meet him
Face to face.
Place my right hand on the sword,
'Tis the place
Of a king to die with sword in hand,
And ye know,
Never man had truer sword than this,
So I go,
Clasping thus its hilt, to meet my latest foe.

poems.one - Florence Peacock

Florence Peacock