Sonnet Cxxix: Poem by George Henry Boker

The dreadful vision of my fears has burst
Upon our unprotected heads at last;
Gloom swallows gloom, blast rises over blast,
Fate's hidden hand hath done its very worst.
And yet I smile above this scene accursed,
Out of my memory of the joyous past,
And hug its faded state and grandeurs fast,
A crownless monarch, from my kingdom cast,
But still a king. No fortune can subdue
The regal brow on which the crown was placed,
Nor the right hand that once the scepter graced.
O queenly partner of my exile, who
Doubts thy regality? Within this waste
Found we a throne, at which but I shall sue.