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Poems

By Richard Chenevix Trench: New ed

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THE EASTERN NARCISSUS.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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111

THE EASTERN NARCISSUS.

In the attempt of the Neo-Platonists to put a new life into the old Grecian mythology, Narcissus falling in love with his own image in the water-brook was made the symbol of man casting himself forth into the world of shows and appearances, and expecting to find the good that would answer to his nature there, but indeed finding nothing but disappointment and death.—The fable is Feridoddin Attar's, who, born in 1216, perished in the invasion of Dschengischan. He was originally a rich merchant of spices. A pious dervisch entered his warehouse one day and craved an alms. Ferid bade him to be gone. The dervisch answered, ‘That can I do easily, for I possess nothing save my hood; but thou, with so many heavy sacks, how wilt thou contrive to be gone, when the hour of thy departure has arrived?’ These words made so deep an impression on Ferid, that, from that moment, he gave up his worldly strivings, and dedicated himself to the spiritual life.

Thou art the fox, O man, that, maugre all
His cunning, did into the water fall.
This fox was travelling once o'er hill and dell,
And reached at length the margin of a well;
His head he stooped into the well, when, lo!
Another fox did in the water show.
He winks, he nods—the other fox replies:
‘What, ho! we must be better friends,’ he cries;
And more acquaintance covetous to win,
Without a thought jumped Reynard headlong in.
He reached the bottom at a single bound,
But there no fox beside himself he found.
Upward again he now would gladly spring,
But to ascend was no such easy thing:
He splashes, struggles, and in sad voice cries,
‘Fool that I was! I deemed myself more wise.
Ah wretch! will no one come unto my aid?’—
But prayer and effort both were vainly made:
Soon did the water drag him down to death;
With a last cry he sank the waves beneath.
Thou art the fox of whom the fable tells;
This world of sense the devil's well of wells:
Thou saw'st reflected thine own image there,
And didst plunge headlong in without a care:
Oh happy! if thou struggle back to day,
Ere the strong whirlpool drags thee down for aye