Publisher's Synopsis
King Cole was King before the troubles came, The land was happy while he held the helm, The valley-land from Condicote to Thame, Watered by Thames and green with many an elm. For many a year he governed well his realm, So well-beloved, that, when at last he died, It was bereavement to the countryside. So good, so well-beloved, had he been In life, that when he reached the judging-place (There where the scales are even, the sword keen), The Acquitting Judges granted him a grace, Aught he might choose, red, black, from king to ace, Beneath the bright arch of the heaven's span; He chose, to wander earth, the friend of man.
