| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The King | | By Skipwith Cannéll |
| | From “Monoliths”
SEVEN full-paunched eunuchs came to me, | |
| Bearing before them upon a silver shield | |
| The secrets of my enemy. | |
| |
| As they crossed my threshold to stand, | |
| With stately and hypocritical gesture | 5 |
| In a row before me, | |
| One stumbled. | |
| The dull, incurious eyes of the others | |
| Blazed into no laughter, | |
| Only a haggard malice | 10 |
| At the discomfiture | |
| Of their companion. | |
| |
| Why should such T h i n g s have power | |
| Not spoken for in the rules of men? . . . . | |
| I would not receive them. | 15 |
| With my head covered I motioned them | |
| To go forth from my presence. | |
| |
| Where shall I find an enemy | |
| Worthy of me as him they defaced? . . . . | |
| As they left me, | 20 |
| Bearing with them | |
| Lewd shield and scarlet crown, | |
| One paused upon the threshold, | |
| Insolent, | |
| To sniff a flower. | 25 |
| |
| Even him I permitted to go forth | |
| Safely. . . . . | |
| Therefore | |
| I have renounced my kingdom; | |
| In a little bronze boat I have set sail | 30 |
| Out | |
| Upon the sea. | |
| |
| There is no land, and the sea | |
| Is black like the pool of ink | |
| In the palm of a soothsayer, | 35 |
| Is black like the cypresses waiting | |
| At midnight in the place of tombs. . . . . | |
| My boat | |
| Fears the white-lipped waves | |
| That snatch at her, | 40 |
| Hungrily, | |
| Furtively, | |
| As they steal past like cats | |
| Into the night: | |
| And beneath me, in their hidden places, | 45 |
| The great fishes talk of me | |
| In a tongue I have forgotten. | | | | |
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