That makes me dream what was, will be, and what is now, has been.
And I, when age on age has rolled, shall sit on the royal throne,
And the King shall love his Vashti, his Beautiful, his own,
And for the joy of what has been and what again will be,
I’ll try to bear this awful weight of lonely misery!
The star! Queen Esther! blazing light that burns into my soul!
The star! the star! Oh! flickering light of life beyond control!
O King! remember Vashti, thy Beautiful, thy own,
Who loved thee and shall love thee still, when Esther’s light has flown!
John Reade.