genius shone in his eye, like the day-star when all the others are swallowed up in light. He spoke of the works of the great One; told how the cedar of Lebanon, when the sun kisses its forehead, lifts up its great arms with a shout, shaking off the feathery snow in winter, or the pearly dew of autumn, to freshen the late river that glistens at its foot. He spoke of the elephant, the antelope, the jackal, the camel, the eagle; he knew them all. He told of the fish that make glad the waters as the seasons dance and frolic round about their heads. He sang in liquid softness of the daughters of air who melt the heaven into song; he rose to the stars, spoke of old chaos, of the world, of the ladder Jacob saw. "He is wiser than Solomon," said the king; "to him belongs the prize." But at that moment some men in humble garb brought a stranger unwillingly along. His raiment was poor, but comely and snow-white. The seal of labor was on his hand; the dust of travel covered his sandals. His beard, long and silvery, went down to his girdle; a sweet smile, like a sleeping infant's, sat unconscious on his lip. As he leaned on his shepherd's staff in the gay court, a blush stole over his cheek. "Speak," said the king. "I have nothing to say," exclaimed the hoary man. "I know only how unwise and frail I am. I am no sage." And Solomon's countenance rose. "By the sceptre of Elshaddai, I charge thee to speak, thou ancient man." 66 Then he began: My study is myself; my acts, my sentiments. I learn how frail I am; I of myself can know nothing. I listen to that voice within, and I know all; I can do all." Then he spoke of his glees, his glooms, and his hopes; his aspirations, his faith. He spoke of nature, the modest trees, the pure, golden stars. When he came to Him who is All in All, he bowed his face and was dumb. "Give him the ring," said Solomon. "He knows himself; he is the wisest. The spirit of the Holy is in him." not. "Take back thy gift," said the sage; "I need it He that knows himself needs no reward,— he knows God, he sees the All of things. Alas! I do but feebly know myself—I deserve no ring. Let me return to my home and my duty." ANONYMOUS 57 SOLOMON AND THE SOWER In open field King Solomon Beneath the sky sets up his throne; "What dost thou there?" exclaimed the king; "The ground here can no harvest bring; Break off from such unwise beginning,Thou'lt get no crop that's worth the winning:" The sower hears; his arm he sinks, And, doubtful, he stands still and thinks; "I've nothing else but this one field; The corn from me,—from God the blessing." FRIEDRICH RUECKERT Translation from the German by N. L. Frothingham 58 SOLOMON AND THE ANT Say Ar-Raheem! call Him "Compassionate," 'Tis written that the serving-angels stand eyes, To do their Master's heavenly embassies. Quicker than thought His high commands they read, Swifter than light to execute them speed; Bearing the word of power from star to star, And unto these naught is too high or low, How Gabriel, watching by the gates of gold, Of twofold mandate uttered by the Lord: 66 * Go earthward! pass where Solomon hath made Goodly and splendid—whom I crowned the king— A thousand steeds with nostrils all aflame "Also, upon the slope of Arafat, Beneath a lote-tree which is fallen flat, Toileth a yellow ant who carrieth home Food for her nest, but so far hath she come, Of the black rock.” Silently Gabriel left The Presence, and prevented the king's sin, O Thou whose love is wide and great, SIR EDWIN ARNOLD 59 SOLOMON AND THE ANTS Of all the kings of fallen earth, The sun has never shone On one to match in power and worth Master of Genii and of Men, He ruled o'er sea and land; So passed he, gloriously arrayed, The creatures God on earth has made, |