The Two Coffins
By Eugene Field
In yonder old cathedral Two lovely coffins lie; In one, the head of the state lies dead, And a singer sleeps hard by. Once had that King great power And proudly ruled the land-- His crown e'en now is on his brow And his sword is in his hand. How sweetly sleeps the singer With calmly folded eyes, And on the breast of the bard at rest The harp that he sounded lies. The castle walls are falling And war distracts the land, But the sword leaps not from that mildewed spot There in that dead king's hand. But with every grace of nature There seems to float along-- To cheer again the hearts of men The singer's deathless song.
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"In yonder old cathedral..."
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