Classic Poem

The King is gone,” the old man said,
As he went utterly alone
Along the ruined walls of stone,
With monkeys chattering overhead,
“The King is gone. The King is gone,

“I may not question why he chose
To reign far hence in foreign lands;
I only wait for his commands,
Contented if he ever knows
I bow not to the monkey bands.

“So I wait here and watch the gate,
As I have done through all his reign,
Lest one day he should come again,
Though all the halls are desolate
And like enough I watch in vain.

“I fear that if he comes not soon
The last hinge of the gate I guard
Will rust across, and wolf and pard
Will prowl in underneath the moon
And nothing will be left to ward;

“Already broken are the domes,
Already cracked the outer walls,
And all the lovely palace falls;
Untended are the princely homes,
Across whose sills the jungle crawls.

“The monkeys look at me and mock;
They know my King is overseas;
They deem that he has fled from these!
Whereof they boast from every rock
And chatter triumph from the trees.

“And yet I guard the gateway well,
And yet I wait for his commands,
And hope some traveller of far lands
May one day come to him and tell
I bow not to the monkey bands.”