They say one king is mad. Perhaps. Who knows?
They say one king is doddering and grey.
They say one king is slack and sick of mind,
A puppet for hid strings that twitch and play.

Is Europe then to be their sprawling-place?
Their mad-house, till it turns the wide world's bane?
Their place of maudlin, slavering conference
Till every far-off farmstead goes insane? 

Added: Jun 15 2005 | Viewed: 668 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Vachel Lindsay
Poem: Who Knows?
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