To W. A.

William Ernest Henley

Or ever the knightly years were gone
With the old world to the grave,
I was a King in Babylon
And you were a Christian Slave.

I saw, I took, I cast you by,
I bent and broke your pride.
You loved me well, or I heard them lie,
But your longing was denied.
Surely I knew that by and by
You cursed your gods and died.

And a myriad suns have set and shone
Since then upon the grave
Decreed by the King in Babylon
To her that had been his Slave.

The pride I trampled is now my scathe,
For it tramples me again.
The old resentment lasts like death,
For you love, yet you refrain.
I break my heart on your hard unfaith,
And I break my heart in vain.

Yet not for an hour do I wish undone
The deed beyond the grave,
When I was a King in Babylon
And you were a Virgin Slave.

Next 10 Poems

• William Ernest Henley : To W. B.
• William Ernest Henley : To W. R.
• William Ernest Henley : To W. R. ( Ii )
• William Ernest Henley : Trees And The Menace Of Night
• William Ernest Henley : Vigil
• William Ernest Henley : Villon's Straight Tip To All Cross Coves
• William Ernest Henley : Visitor
• William Ernest Henley : Waiting
• William Ernest Henley : We Flash Across The Level
• William Ernest Henley : We'll Go No More A-roving By The Light Of The Moon

Previous 10 Poems

• William Ernest Henley : To S. C.
• William Ernest Henley : To R. L. S.
• William Ernest Henley : To R. F. B.
• William Ernest Henley : To R. A. M. S.
• William Ernest Henley : To P. A. G.
• William Ernest Henley : To My Mother Iii
• William Ernest Henley : To My Mother Ii
• William Ernest Henley : To My Mother
• William Ernest Henley : To Me At My Fifth-floor Window
• William Ernest Henley : To K. De M.