Another, “I the royal robe he wears,
    To hear men say, ‘Behold, a King walks here!’”
    And cried the third, “Now by his long gray hairs
    I’d have his throne!  Then should men cringe and fear!”

    They quaffed the blessed draught and went their way
    To where the city’s gilded turrets shone;
    Then from the shadowed palms, where rested they,
    Stepped one, with bowed gray head, and passed alone.

    His arms upon his breast, his eyes down bent,
    Against the fading light a shadow straight;
    Across the yellow sand, musing, he went
    Where in the sunset gleamed the city’s gate.

    Lo, the next morrow a command did bring
    To three who tarried in that city’s wall,
    Which bade them hasten straightway to the King,
    Izza, the Great, and straightway went they all,

    With questioning and wonder in each mind. 
    Majestic on his gleaming throne was he,
    Izza the Just, the kingliest of his kind! 
    His eagle gaze upon the strangers three

    Bent, to the first he spake, “Something doth tell
    Me that to-day my jewelled crown should lie
    Upon thy brow, that it be proven well
    How any man may be a king thereby.”

    And to the second, “Still the same hath told
    That thou shalt don this robe of royalty,
    And”—­to the third—­“that thou this sceptre hold
    To show a king to such a man as I!”

    And straightway it was done.  Then Izza spake
    Unto the guards and said, “Go!  Bring thee now
    From out the city wall a child to make
    Its first obeisance to the King.  Speed thou!”

    In Izza’s name, Izza, the great and good,
    Went this strange word ’mid stir and trumpet’s ring,
    And straightway came along and wondering stood
    A child within the presence of the King.

    The King?  Her dark eyes, flashing, fearless gazed
    To where ’mid pomp and splendor three there sate. 
    One, ’neath a glittering crown, shrunk sore amazed;
    One cringed upon the carven throne of state,

    The third, wrapped with a royal robe, hung low
    His head in awkward shame, and could not see
    Beyond the blazoned hem, that was to show
    How any man thus garbed a king might be!

    Wondering, paused the child, then turned to where
    One stood apart, his arms across his breast;
    No crown upon the silver of his hair,
    Black-gowned and still, of stately mien possessed;

    No ’broidered robe nor gemmed device to tell
    Whose was that brow, majestic with its mind;
    But lo, one look, and straight she prostrate fell
    Before great Izza, kingliest of his kind!

* * * * *

    Around the shining Well, at close of day,
    Beyond the desert, ‘neath the palms’ green ring,
    Three stopped to quaff a draught and paused to say
    “Life to great Izza!  Long may he be King!”