Before your feet,
My love, my sweet,
Behold! your slave bows down;
And in his hands
From other lands
Brings you another crown.
For in far climes,
In bygone times,
Myself was royal too:
Oh, I have been
A king, my queen,
Who am a slave for you!
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POEM: THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME · Edith Nesbit · Poetry Cove