Explore "The Memory" by Gilbert Parker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Know you where I, my royal fool, was crowned?
A rock within the great Egean? Where / A strong flood hurrieth on Finistere?
Where at the Pole our valiant men were drowned?
Where the soft creamy wash of Indian seas / Spreads palmward? Where the sunset glides to dawn, / No night between? Where all the tides are drawn / To greet their Sun and bathe their Idol's knees?
Where was I crowned? Dear fool, upon a stone / That standeth where Earth's arches make but one, / Where all the banners of her soul were flown,
And trumpeted the legions of the sun.
The stone is left: 'tis here against the door / Of throne and kingdom. Pray you, mock no more.