Poems By Richard Chenevix Trench: New ed |
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THE SPILT PEARLS. |
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I
THE SPILT PEARLS.
His courtiers of the Caliph crave—
‘Oh, say how this may be,
That of thy salves this Ethiop slave
Is best beloved by thee?
‘Oh, say how this may be,
That of thy salves this Ethiop slave
Is best beloved by thee?
‘For he is hideous as the night:
But when has ever chose
A nightingale for his delight
A hueless scentless rose?’
But when has ever chose
A nightingale for his delight
A hueless scentless rose?’
The Caliph then—‘No features fair,
Nor comely mien are his:
Love is the beauty he doth wear,
And Love his glory is.
Nor comely mien are his:
Love is the beauty he doth wear,
And Love his glory is.
‘Once when a camel of my train
There fell in narrow street,
From broken casket rolled amain
Rich pearls before my feet.
There fell in narrow street,
From broken casket rolled amain
Rich pearls before my feet.
‘I beckoning to my slaves, that I
Would freely give them these,
At once upon the spoil they fly,
The costly boon to seize.
Would freely give them these,
At once upon the spoil they fly,
The costly boon to seize.
98
One only at my side remained—
Beside this Ethiop none:
He, moveless as the steed he reined,
Behind me sat alone.
Beside this Ethiop none:
He, moveless as the steed he reined,
Behind me sat alone.
‘“What will thy gain, good fellow, be,
Thus lingering at my side?”
—“My King, that I shall faithfully
Have guarded thee,” he cried.
Thus lingering at my side?”
—“My King, that I shall faithfully
Have guarded thee,” he cried.
‘“True servant's title he may wear,
He only, who has not
For his lord's gifts, how rich soe'er,
His lord himself forgot!”’
He only, who has not
For his lord's gifts, how rich soe'er,
His lord himself forgot!”’
—So thou alone dost walk before
Thy God with perfect aim,
From Him desiring nothing more
Beside Himself to claim.
Thy God with perfect aim,
From Him desiring nothing more
Beside Himself to claim.
For if thou not to Him aspire,
But to his gifts alone,
Not Love, but covetous desire,
Has brought thee to his throne.
But to his gifts alone,
Not Love, but covetous desire,
Has brought thee to his throne.
While such thy prayer, it climbs above
In vain; the golden key
Of God's rich treasure-house of love
Thine own will never be.
In vain; the golden key
Of God's rich treasure-house of love
Thine own will never be.
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