The King’s Highway

October 6, 1892 1 I ’LL wake and watch this autumn night,   Till the slow dawn is gray; Lest I should miss a noble sight   Upon the King’s highway. For now the far-enthronèd King   To whom all flesh shall come, A glorious message sends, to bring   His exiled minstrel home; And I may see the guards in white   Troop round him, crowned with bay, And many a starry torch alight,   Along the King’s highway;— May see against the ebon skies,   The banners backward blow, And hear the io pæan rise   About them, as they go. What vigil would it not requite,   That glorious array, That sure and stately march, forthright   Along the King’s highway?*        *        *        *        * I heard the bells of midnight sound   From many an unseen tower, But for the minstrel homeward bound   I could not watch one hour. And now, how strange the growing light,   How blank the morning gray! What stillness, after yesternight,   Broods on the King’s highway! Note 1. The day of Tennyson’s death. [back]