Wove filmy yellow nets of sun;
Into the drowsy snare too soon
The guards fell one by one.
Through the king’s gate unquestioned then,
A beggar went, and laughed, “This brings
Me chance, at last, to see if men
Fare better, being kings.”
The king sat bowed beneath his crown,
Propping his face with listless hand;
Watching the hour glass sifting down