The Passing of the King, November 15, 1915


The Passing Of The Kings

IN far, dim days of ages gone,
When men were children still,
Then Strong Arm seized on power fast
And wrought both good and ill.
Men named him "King" and tribute paid
And served on bended knee,
And when he died his weakling line
Still claimed their fealty.

At length the kings, grown drunk with power,
Declaimed the "rights divine,"
Trod down the weak laid waste the lands
And spilled red blood like wine,
Till now a cry of agony
Around the whole earth rings,
A tocsin that is sounding for
The passing of the kings.

The mind of the man moves ever on,
Majestically slow,
Half fears to grasp the things untried,
To let the old things go;
Yet in his mighty onward march
This, this is sure alone,
That not forever will he keep
The things he has outgrown.

The power they abdicated once
Shall be resumed by men.
The People, sane and sovereign grown,
Shall take it back again
Above the cries of agony
A hopeful note outrings --
A peal that sounds the promise of
The passing of the kings.

-- By Anne Virginia Culbertson, in New York Herald.

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