The King of Thule
There was a king of Thule
who loved, to the very end,
his maiden's chalice jeweled
death’s finest ruby red.
At each feast he drank
and spoke of no one else;
From heaven she watched him drink,
so oft he drank to heaven’s health.
And when death came for him,
he took the cup to hide;
He gave away his kingdom,
but none would take her ruby eyes.
He held a royal banquet,
gathered all his knights
here at Goden’s hamlet,
high on the Cliffs of Kyte.
And so stood the old dreamer
as he drank the final embers of life,
then threw his lover’s chalice
to the foaming waters of the night.
He watched it drop and drink,
disappearing to the sea.
He saw once more her image blink,
and never drank again.
No comments:
Post a Comment