graven image On the grass of the hillside shall brave the storms' beating; Though through days of thy plenty the people remember As a dim time of war the past days of King Pharamond; Yet belike as time weareth, and folk turn back a little To the darkness where dreams lie and live on for ever, Even there shall be Pharamond who failed not in battle, But feared to overcome his folk who forgot him, And turned back and left them a tale for the telling, A song for the singing, that yet in some battle May grow to remembrance and rend through the ruin As my sword rent it through in the days gone for ever. So, like Enoch of old, I was not, for God took me.     —But lo, here is Oliver, all draws to an ending—

Well met, my Oliver! the clocks strike the due minute, What news hast thou got?—thou art moody of visage.

In one word, 'tis battle; the days we begun with Must begin once again with the world waxen baser.

Ah! battle it may be: but surely no river Runneth back to its springing: so the world has grown wiser And Theobald the Constable is king in our stead, And contenteth the folk who cried, "Save us, King Pharamond!"

Hast thou heard of his councillor men call Honorius? Folk hold him in fear, and in love the tale hath it.

Much of him have I heard: nay, more, I have seen him With the men of my household, and the great man they honour. They were faring afield to some hunt or disporting, Few faces were missing, and many I saw there I was fain of in days past at fray or at feasting; My heart yearned towards them—but what—days have changed them, They must wend as they must down the way they are driven.

Yet e'en in these days there remaineth a remnant That is faithful and fears not the flap of thy banner.

And a fair crown is faith, as thou knowest, my father; Fails the world, yet that faileth not; love hath begot it, Sweet life and contentment at last springeth from it; No helping these need whose hearts still are with me, Nay, rather they handle the gold rod of my kingdom.

Yet if thou leadest forth once more as aforetime In faith of great deeds will I follow thee, Pharamond, And thy latter end yet shall be counted more glorious Than thy glorious beginning; and great shall my gain be If e'en I must die ere the day of thy triumph.

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