Whose memory my heart hath kept,
Whose sunken glories I have wept.
For then, at least, it will appear
That not in disobedience mere
Thy mandate high I overpast.
—O King, I was the least and last
Of all the servitors of him,
Whose glory in thy frown grew dim,—
The least and last—yet he one day
To me, his meanest slave, did say