 | Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr |  |
206
RABBI BENAIAH
Rabbi Benaiah at the close of day,
When the low sun athwart the level sands
Shot his long arrows, from far Eastern lands
Homeward across the desert bent his way.
When the low sun athwart the level sands
Shot his long arrows, from far Eastern lands
Homeward across the desert bent his way.
Behind him trailed the lengthening caravan—
The slow, weird camels, with monotonous pace;
Before him, lifted in the clear, far space,
From east to west the towers of his city ran!
The slow, weird camels, with monotonous pace;
Before him, lifted in the clear, far space,
From east to west the towers of his city ran!
Impatiently he scanned the darkening sky;
Then girding in hot haste, “What ho!” cried he,
“Bring the swift steed Abdallah unto me!
As rode his Bedouin master, so will I!”
Then girding in hot haste, “What ho!” cried he,
“Bring the swift steed Abdallah unto me!
As rode his Bedouin master, so will I!”
Soon like a bird across the waste he flew,
Nor drew his rein till at the massive gate
That guards the citadel's supremest state
He paused a moment, slowly entering through.
Nor drew his rein till at the massive gate
That guards the citadel's supremest state
He paused a moment, slowly entering through.
Then down the shadowy, moonlit streets he sped;
The city slept; but like a burning star,
Where his own turret-chamber rose afar,
A clear, strong light its steady radiance shed!
The city slept; but like a burning star,
Where his own turret-chamber rose afar,
A clear, strong light its steady radiance shed!
Into his court he rode with sudden clang.
The startled slaves bowed low, but spake no word;
By no quick tumult was the midnight stirred,
No shouts of welcome on the night air rang!
The startled slaves bowed low, but spake no word;
By no quick tumult was the midnight stirred,
No shouts of welcome on the night air rang!
207
But with slow footsteps down the turret-stairs,
With trembling lips that hardly breathed his name,
And sad, averted eyes, his fair wife came—
The lady Judith—wan with tears and prayers.
With trembling lips that hardly breathed his name,
And sad, averted eyes, his fair wife came—
The lady Judith—wan with tears and prayers.
Then swift he cried out, less in wrath than fear,
“Now, by my beard! is this the way ye keep
My welcome home? Go! wake my sons from sleep,
And let their glad tongues break the silence here!”
“Now, by my beard! is this the way ye keep
My welcome home? Go! wake my sons from sleep,
And let their glad tongues break the silence here!”
“Not so, my dear lord! Let them rest,” she said.
“Young eyes need slumber. But come thou with me.
I have a trouble to make known to thee
Ere I before thee can lift up my head.”
“Young eyes need slumber. But come thou with me.
I have a trouble to make known to thee
Ere I before thee can lift up my head.”
Into an inner chamber led she him,
And with her own hands brought him meat and wine,
A purple robe, and linen pure and fine.
He half forgot that her sweet eyes were dim!
And with her own hands brought him meat and wine,
A purple robe, and linen pure and fine.
He half forgot that her sweet eyes were dim!
“Now for thy trouble!” cried he, laughing loud.
“Hast torn thy kirtle? Are thy pearls astray?
What! Tears? My camels o'er yon desert way
Bring treasures that had made Queen Esther proud!”
“Hast torn thy kirtle? Are thy pearls astray?
What! Tears? My camels o'er yon desert way
Bring treasures that had made Queen Esther proud!”
Slowly she spake, nor in his face looked she.
“My lord, long years ago a friend of mine
Left with me jewels, costly, rare, and fine,
Bidding me guard them carefully till he
“My lord, long years ago a friend of mine
Left with me jewels, costly, rare, and fine,
Bidding me guard them carefully till he
“Again should call for them. The other day
He sent his messenger. But I have learned
To prize them as my own! Have I not earned
A right to keep them? Speak, my lord, I pray!”
He sent his messenger. But I have learned
To prize them as my own! Have I not earned
A right to keep them? Speak, my lord, I pray!”
“Strange sense of honor hath a woman's heart!”
The rabbi answered hotly. “Now, good lack!
Where are the jewels? I will send them back
Ere yet the sun upon his course may start!
The rabbi answered hotly. “Now, good lack!
208
Ere yet the sun upon his course may start!
“Show me the jewels?” Up she rose as white
As any ghost, and mutely led the way
Into the turret-chamber whence the ray
Seen from afar had blessed the rabbi's sight.
As any ghost, and mutely led the way
Into the turret-chamber whence the ray
Seen from afar had blessed the rabbi's sight.
Then with slow, trembling hands she drew aside
The silken curtain from before the bed
Whereon, in snowy calm, their boys lay dead.
“There are the jewels, O, my lord!” she cried.
The silken curtain from before the bed
Whereon, in snowy calm, their boys lay dead.
“There are the jewels, O, my lord!” she cried.
| Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr | |