Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922.
The Kings are passing Deathward
T
Of days that had been splendid where they went;
Their crowns are captive and their courts are stark
Of purples that are ruinous, now, and rent.
For all that they have seen disastrous things:
The shattered pomp, the split and shaken throne,
They cannot quite forget the way of Kings:
Gravely they pass, majestic and alone.
Toward the eternal night of restless shapes,
They walk in awful splendor, regal yet,
Wearing their crimes like rich and kingly capes …
Curse them or taunt, they will not hear or see;
The Kings are passing deathward: let them be.