THE OLD KING'S ATONEMENT.TOLD TO A BOY ON CHRISTMAS EVE.
This is the story that a dead man writ—
Five hundred years ago it must be, quite;
Worlds full of children listened once to it,
Who do not ask for stories now at night.
Five hundred years ago it must be, quite;
Worlds full of children listened once to it,
Who do not ask for stories now at night.
Worlds full of children, who have followed him,
The King they learned to love and to forgive,
About whose feet the North-snows once lay dim,
To the sweet land where he has gone to live.
The King they learned to love and to forgive,
About whose feet the North-snows once lay dim,
To the sweet land where he has gone to live.
He was a boy whose purple cap could show
As true a peacock's-plume as ever fanned
Bright royal hair, but in the gracious glow
Of his fair head strange things, it seems, were planned:
As true a peacock's-plume as ever fanned
Bright royal hair, but in the gracious glow
Of his fair head strange things, it seems, were planned:
47
