| |
| A PEASANT stood before a king and said, | |
| “My children starve, I come to thee for bread.” | |
| On cushions soft and silken sat enthroned | |
| The king, and looked on him that prayed and moaned, | |
| Who cried again,—“For bread I come to thee.” | 5 |
| For grief, like wine, the tongue will render free. | |
| Then said the prince with simple truth “Behold | |
| I sit on cushions silken-soft, of gold | |
| And wrought with skill the vessels which they bring | |
| To fitly grace the banquet of a king. | 10 |
| But at my gate the Mede triumphant beats, | |
| And die for food my people in the streets. | |
| Yet no good father hears his child complain | |
| And gives him stones for bread, for alms disdain. | |
| Come, thou and I will sup together—come.” | 15 |
| The wondering courtiers saw—saw and were dumb: | |
| Then followed with their eyes where Ahab led | |
| With grace the humble guest, amazed, to share his bread. | |
| |
| Him half abashed the royal host withdrew | |
| Into a room, the curtained doorway through. | 20 |
| Silent behind the folds of purple closed, | |
| In marble life the statues stood disposed; | |
| From the high ceiling, perfume breathing, hung | |
| Lamps rich, pomegranate-shaped, and golden-swung. | |
| Gorgeous the board with massive metal shone, | 25 |
| Gorgeous with gems arose in front a throne: | |
| These through the Orient lattice saw the sun. | |
| If gold there was, of meat and bread was none | |
| Save one small loaf; this stretched his hand and took | |
| Ahab Mohammed, prayed to God, and broke: | 30 |
| One half his yearning nature bid him crave, | |
| The other gladly to his guest he gave. | |
| “I have no more to give,” he cheerily said: | |
| “With thee I share my only loaf of bread.” | |
| Humbly the stranger took the offered crumb | 35 |
| Yet ate not of it, standing meek and dumb; | |
| Then lifts his eyes,—the wondering Ahab saw | |
| His rags fall from him as the snow in thaw. | |
| Resplendent, blue, those orbs upon him turned; | |
| All Ahab’s soul within him throbbed and burned. | 40 |
| |
| “Ahab Mohammed,” spoke the vision then, | |
| “From this thou shalt be blessed among men. | |
| Go forth—thy gates the Mede bewildered flees, | |
| And Allah thank thy people on their knees. | |
| He who gives thy does a worthy deed, | 45 |
| Of him the recording angel shall take heed. | |
| But he that halves all that his house doth hold, | |
| His deeds are more to God, yea more than finest gold.” | |
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