Paroles de Cold Song

A vision Two crownèd kings, and one that stood alone With no green weight of laurels round his head But with sad eyes as one uncomforted And wearied with man’s never-ceasing moan For sins no bleating victim can atone And sweet long lips with tears and kisses fed Girt was he in a garment black and red And at his feet I marked a broken stone Which sent up lilies, dove-like, to his knees Now at their sight, my heart being lit with flame I cried to beatricé, “who are these?” And she made answer, knowing well each name “Æschylos first, the second sophokles And last (wide stream of tears!) euripides”