Page:Stevenson - Songs of Travel (1896).djvu/78

Rh Unlike the strains, and yet the theme is one:

The strains unlike, and how unlike their fate!

You to the blinding palace-yard shall call

The prefect of the singers, and to him,

Listening devout, your valedictory verse

Deliver; he, his attribute fulfilled,

To the island chorus hand your measures on,

Wed now with harmony: so them, at last,

Night after night, in the open hall of dance,

Shall thirty matted men, to the clapped hand,

Intone and bray and bark. Unfortunate!

Paper and print alone shall honour mine.

THE SONG

now the King his ear arouse

And toss the bosky ringlets from his brows,

The while, our bond to implement,

My muse relates and praises his descent.

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