In penance for stealing the Abbot's corn, Sin is a load upon the breast; And it nightly breaks the Raven's rest, The Raven pray'd the Winter through,- The hail it fell, the winds they blew, Until the Spring came forth again, Alas! alas for earthly vows, Sing alas! and woe is me! Whether they're made by men or crows The Raven swoop'd upon the seed, So beat we our breasts in shame of sin,— While all is hollowness within : Alas! and woe is me! And when the ancient Tempter smiles, BAYARD TAYLOR. 1825-1878. THE WISDOM OF ALI. The Prophet once, sitting in calm debate, With unbelieving jealousy were stirr'd; And, that they might on him confusion bring, Ten of the boldest join'd to prove the thing. "Let us in turn to Ali go!" they said,— "And ask if Wisdom should be sought instead Of earthly riches: then, if he reply To each of us in thought accordantly, And yet to none in speech or phrase the same, His shall the honour be, and ours the shame." Now, when the first his bold demand did make, These were the words which Ali straightway spake : "Wisdom is the inheritance of those Whom Allah favours; riches of his foes." Unto the second he said—“ Thy self must be Unto the seventh-" Divide thy wealth, each part Unto the ninth-" The camels slowly bring "Wealth is a darkness which the soul should fear; But Wisdom is the lamp that makes it clear." Crimson with shame the questioners withdrew, And they declared-" The Prophet's words were true : Of Wisdom." When his friends to Ali bore These words, he smiled and said: "And should they ask Were easy, for the stream from Wisdom's well, BEDOUIN SONG. From the Desert I come to thee, And the midnight hears my cry— I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die Till the sun grows cold And the stars are old And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold. Look from thy window, and see My passion and my pain! I lie on the sands below, And I faint in thy disdain. Let the night winds touch thy brow And melt thee to hear the vow Of a love that shall not die Till the sun grows cold And the stars are old. And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold. My steps are nightly driven And open thy chamber door! And the stars are old And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold. THE ARAB TO THE PALM. Next to thee, O fair Gazelle ! O Beddowee Girl, beloved so well! Next to the fearless Nedjidee, Whose fleetness shall bear me again to thee,— Next to ye both I love the Palm, With his leaves of beauty, his fruit of balm : Next to ye both I love the Tree Whose fluttering shadow wraps us three With love and silence and mystery. Our tribe is many, our poets vie With any under the Arab sky: Yet none can sing of the Palm but I. The marble minarets that begem Are not so light as his slender stem. He lifts his leaves in the sunbeam's glance, A slumbrous motion, a passionate sign, Full of passion and sorrow is he, The sun may flame and the sands may stir, O Tree of Love! by that love of thine, Give me the secret of the Sun, If I were a king, O stately Tree! In the court of my palace I'd build for thee : With spikes of golden bloom ablaze, And there the poets in thy praise RICHARD HENRY STODDARD. BRAHMA'S ANSWER. And the old Earth was young, Her open secrets wrung. |