Charlotte M. Yonge.
XII.—KING CANUTE.
1. Upon his royal throne he sat
In a monarch's thoughtful mood;
Attendants on his regal state,
His servile courtiers stood,
With foolish flatteries, false and vain,
To win his smile, his favor gain.
2. They told him e'en the mighty deep
His kingly sway confessed;
That he could bid its billows leap,
Or still its stormy breast!
He smiled contemptuously and cried,
"Be then my boasted empire tried!"
3. Down to the ocean's sounding shore
The proud procession came,
To see its billows' wild uproar
King Canute's power proclaim,
Or, at his high and dread command,
In gentle murmurs kiss the strand.
4. Not so thought he, their noble king,
As his course he seaward sped;
And each base slave, like a guilty thing,
Hung down his conscious head:
He knew the ocean's Lord on high!
They, that he scorned their senseless lie.
5. His throne was placed by ocean's side,
He lifted his scepter there,
Bidding, with tones of kingly pride,
The waves their strife forbear;
And while he spoke his royal will,
All but the winds and waves were still.