Kings and Queens
Mary sleeps in Heaven's bowers,
Heaven knows where Helen lies;
Dido is a noise of flowers
at dusk, in Paradise.
Lost is Caesar's laurelled brow
and Arthur's idle chivalrous lust;
beggar maids are beggars now
and love is turned to dust.
Queens and harlots and bright kings,
all are clothed in earth again—
brief unhallowed whisperings
on the tongues of men.