Classic Poem

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.