Explore "Poet and King" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THOUGH I am king, I have no throne / Save this rough wooden siege alone; / I have no empire, yet my sway / Extends a myriad leagues away; / No servile vassal bends his knee / In grovelling reverence to me, / Yet at my word all hearts beat high, / And there is fire in every eye, / And love and gratitude they bring / As tribute unto me, a king.
The folk that throng the busy street / Know not it is a king they meet; / And I am glad there is not seen / The monarch in my face and mien.