Thy shadow scarce seems shade, thy pattering leaflets
Sprinkle their gathered sunshine o'er my senses,
And Nature gives me all her summer confidences.
Whether my heart with hope or sorrow tremble,
Thou sympathisest still; wild and unquiet,
I fling me down; thy ripple, like a river,
Flows valleyward, where calmness is, and by it
My heart is floated down into the land of quiet.
ONE day Shah Mahmúd, riding with the Wind
A-hunting, left his Retinue behind,
And coming to a River, whose swift Course
Doubled back Game and Dog, and Man and Horse,
Beheld upon the Shore a little Lad
A-fishing, very poor, and Tatter-clad
He was, and weeping as his Heart would break.
So the Great Sultan, for good humor's sake
Pull'd in his Horse a moment, and drew nigh,
And after making his Salám, ask'd why
He wept-weeping, the Sultan said, so sore
As he had never seen one weep before.
The Boy look'd up, and "Oh Amír,” he said,
"Sev'n of us are at home, and Father dead,
And Mother left with scarce a Bit of Bread:
And now since Sunrise have I fish'd and see!
Caught nothing for our Supper-Woe is Me!"
The Sultan lighted from his Horse. "Behold,"
Said he, "Good Fortune will not be controll'd:
And, since To-day yours seems to turn from you,
Suppose we try for once what mine will do,
And we will share alike in all I win."
So the Shah took, and flung his Fortune in,
The Net; which, cast by the Great Mahmúd's Hand,
A hundred glittering Fishes brought to Land.
The Lad look'd up in Wonder Mahmúd smiled
And vaulted into Saddle. But the Child
Ran after"Nay, Amír, but half the Haul
Is yours by Bargain"
The Sultan cried, and shook his Bridle free
"But mind -To-morrow All belongs to Me — "
And so rode off. Next morning at Divan
The Sultan's Mind upon his Bargain ran,
And being somewhat in a mind for sport
Sent for the Lad: who, carried up to Court,
And marching into Royalty's full Blaze
With such a Catch of Fish as yesterday's,
The Sultan call'd and set him by his side,
And asking him, "What Luck?" The Boy replied,
66 This is the Luck that follows every Cast,
Since o'er my Net the Sultan's Shadow pass'd."
When Yúsúf from his Father's House was torn,
His Father's Heart was utterly forlorn;
And, like a Pipe with but one note, his Tongue
With nothing but the name of Yúsúf rung.
Then down from Heaven's Branches came the Bird Of Heaven, and said "God wearies of that Word. Hast thou not else to do, and else to say?
So Yacúb's lips were sealèd from that Day.
But one Night in a Vision, far away
His darling in some alien Home he saw,
And stretch'd his arms forth; and between the Awe
Of God's Displeasure, and the bitter Pass.
Of Love and Anguish, sigh'd forth an Alas!
And stopp'd-But when he woke the angel came,
And said, 'Oh, faint of purpose! Though the Name
Of that Belovèd were not utter'd by
Thy Lips it hung sequester'd in that Sigh.'
One night Shah Mahmúd who had been of late
Somewhat distemper'd with Affairs of State
Stroll'd through the Streets disguised, as wont to do
And, coming to the Baths, there on the Flue
Saw the poor Fellow who the Furnace fed
Sitting beside his Water-jug and Bread.
Mahmud stept in- sat down — unask'd took up
And tasted of the untasted Loaf and Cup,
Saying within himself, "Grudge but a bit,
And, by the Lord, your Head shall pay for it!"
So having rested, warm'd and satisfied
Himself without a Word on either side,
At last the wayward Sultan rose to go.
And then at last his Host broke silence.
Art satisfied? Well, Brother, any Day
Or Night, remember, when you come this Way
And want a bit of Provender — why, you
Are welcome, and if not why, welcome too."
The Sultan was so tickled with the whim
Of this quaint Entertainment and of him
Who offer'd it, that many a Night again
Stoker and Shah forgather'd in that Vein-
Till, the poor Fellow having stood the Test
Of true Good-fellowship, Mahmud confess'd
One Night the Sultan that had been his Guest:
And in requital of the Scanty Dole
The Poor Man offer'd with so large a soul,
Bid him ask any Largess that he would-
A Throne - if he would have it, so he should.
The Poor Man kiss'd the Dust, and "All," said he, “I ask is what and where I am to be;
If but the Shah from time to time will come
As now and see me in the lowly Home
His presence makes a palace, and my own
Poor Flue more royal than another's Throne."
FANCY thou not, though weary, as if won
The Journey's End when only just begun;
For not a Mountain Peak with Toil attain'd
But shows a Top yet higher to be gain'd.
Wherefore still Forward, Forward!
WHEN Israel, of the Lord beloved,
Out of the land of bondage came,
Her fathers' God before her moved,
An awful guide, in smoke and flame.
By day, along the astonished lands
The cloudy pillar glided slow;
By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands
Returned the fiery column's glow.
There rose the choral hymn of praise,
And trump and timbrel answered keen, And Zion's daughters poured their lays, With priest's and warrior's voice between. No portents now our foes amaze,
Forsaken Israel wanders lone:
Our fathers would not know Thy ways,
And Thou hast left them to their own.
But, present still, though now unseen,
When brightly shines the prosperous day,
Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen
To temper the deceitful ray.
And oh, when stoops on Judah's path
In shade and storm the frequent night,
Be thou, long-suffering, slow to wrath,
A burning and a shining light!
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