Nap of monarch’s wing

On nap of monarch’s wing have I not flown?
Done crossed times mortal ravages
Into that livery my king holds his throne
Save all; but these wolfs and savages.

Did I not unfurl unto such cherub reaches?
Cocooning; scatter my minds, lustrous web.
Fly over blue vaporous sparking beaches
Did I not crumble ashore and ebb?

Like some oily driftwood haven’t I rolled...?
Prodigiously darker in nonchalant waves
Emphatic is the harvest moon I behold:
Oh—edify my soul with one that saves?

The monarch’s beauty is but royally savaged
The landscape of any hungry larvae ravaged.