Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/34

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OLD KING COLE

Who knows to-day from yesterdayMay learn to count no thing too strange:Love builds of what Time takes away,Till Death itself is less than Change.
Who sees enough in his duressMay go as far as dreams have gone;Who sees a little may do lessThan many who are blind have done;
Who sees unchastened here the soulTriumphant has no other sightThan has a child who sees the wholeWorld radiant with his own delight.
Far journeys and hard wanderingAwait him in whose crude surmisePeace, like a mask, hides everythingThat is and has been from his eyes;
And all his wisdom is unfound,Or like a web that error weavesOn airy looms that have a soundNo louder now than falling leaves.

OLD KING COLE

In Tilbury Town did Old King ColeA wise old age anticipate,Desiring, with his pipe and bowl,No Khan's extravagant estate.No crown annoyed his honest head,No fiddlers three were called or needed;For two disastrous heirs insteadMade music more than ever three did.

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