The little king
Came preening to the presence of the great,
Who wore no jewelled thing
To show imperial state.
Had the small king been wise,
He'd read dominion in a mummer's eyes.

The peacock princeling spoke his will,
While the great lord sat still.
But steady eyes had filched a soul away:
A braggart withered in his husk that day.
Had the small king been wise,
He'd read dominion in a mummer's eyes.