Poems By Richard Chenevix Trench: New ed |
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| III. | III.
THE FESTIVAL. |
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105
III. THE FESTIVAL.
Five hundred princely guests before
Haroun Al Raschid state:
Five hundred princely guests or more
Admired his royal state:
Haroun Al Raschid state:
Five hundred princely guests or more
Admired his royal state:
For never had that glory been
So royally displayed,
Nor ever such a gorgeous scene
Had eye of man surveyed.
So royally displayed,
Nor ever such a gorgeous scene
Had eye of man surveyed.
He, most times meek of heart, yet now
Of spirit too elate,
Exclaimed—‘Before me Cæsars bow,
On me two empires wait.
Of spirit too elate,
Exclaimed—‘Before me Cæsars bow,
On me two empires wait.
‘Yet all our glories something lack,
We do our triumphs wrong,
Until to us reflected back
In mirrors clear of song.
We do our triumphs wrong,
Until to us reflected back
In mirrors clear of song.
‘Call him then, unto whom this power
Is given, this skill sublime—
Now win from us some splendid dower
With song that fits the time.’
Is given, this skill sublime—
Now win from us some splendid dower
With song that fits the time.’
106
—‘My King, as I behold thee now,
May I behold thee still,
While prostrate worlds before thee bow,
And wait upon thy will!
May I behold thee still,
While prostrate worlds before thee bow,
And wait upon thy will!
‘May evermore this clear pure heaven,
Whence every speck and stain
Of trouble far away is driven,
Above thy head remain!’
Whence every speck and stain
Of trouble far away is driven,
Above thy head remain!’
The Caliph cried—‘Thou wishest well;
There waits thee golden store
For this—but, oh! resume the spell,
I fain would listen more.’
There waits thee golden store
For this—but, oh! resume the spell,
I fain would listen more.’
—‘Drink thou life's sweetest goblet up,
O King, and may its wine,
For others' lips a mingled cup,
Be all unmixed for thine.
O King, and may its wine,
For others' lips a mingled cup,
Be all unmixed for thine.
‘Live long—the shadow of no grief
Come ever near to thee:
As thou in height of place art chief,
So chief in gladness be.’
Come ever near to thee:
As thou in height of place art chief,
So chief in gladness be.’
Haroun Al Raschid cried again—
‘I thank thee—but proceed,
And now take up a higher strain,
And win a higher meed.’
‘I thank thee—but proceed,
And now take up a higher strain,
And win a higher meed.’
Around that high magnific hall
One glance the poet threw
On courtiers, king, and festival,
And did the strain renew:
One glance the poet threw
On courtiers, king, and festival,
And did the strain renew:
107
—‘And yet, and yet—shalt thou at last
Lie stretched on bed of death:
Then, when thou drawest thick and fast
With sobs thy painful breath,
Lie stretched on bed of death:
Then, when thou drawest thick and fast
With sobs thy painful breath,
‘When Azrael glides through guarded gate,
Through hosts that camp around
Their lord in vain—and will not wait,
When thou art sadly bound
Through hosts that camp around
Their lord in vain—and will not wait,
When thou art sadly bound
‘Unto thine house of dust alone,
O King, when thou must die,—
This pomp a shadow thou shalt own,
This glory all a lie.’
O King, when thou must die,—
This pomp a shadow thou shalt own,
This glory all a lie.’
Then darkness on all faces hung,
And through the banquet went
Low sounds the murmuring guests among
Of angry discontent;
And through the banquet went
Low sounds the murmuring guests among
Of angry discontent;
And him anon they fiercely urge—
‘What guerdon shall be thine?
What does it, this untimely dirge,
'Mid feasts, and flowers, and wine?
‘What guerdon shall be thine?
What does it, this untimely dirge,
'Mid feasts, and flowers, and wine?
‘Our lord demanded in his mirth
A strain to heighten glee;
But, lo! at thine his tears come forth
In current swift and free.’
A strain to heighten glee;
But, lo! at thine his tears come forth
In current swift and free.’
—‘Peace—not to him rebukes belong,
But rather highest grace;
He gave me what I asked, a song
To fit the time and place.’
But rather highest grace;
He gave me what I asked, a song
To fit the time and place.’
108
All voices at that voice were stilled;
Again the Caliph cried,—
‘He saw our mouths with laughter filled,
He saw us drunk with pride;
Again the Caliph cried,—
‘He saw our mouths with laughter filled,
He saw us drunk with pride;
‘And bade us know that every road,
By monarch trod or slave,
Thick set with thorns, with roses strewed,
Must issue in the grave.’
By monarch trod or slave,
Thick set with thorns, with roses strewed,
Must issue in the grave.’
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