14

OKMAN the Wise, therefore the Good (for wise Is but sage good, seeing with final eyes), Was slave once to a lord, jealous though kind, Who, piqued sometimes at the man's master mind,

Gave him, one day, to see how he would treat So strange a grace, a bitter gourd to eat.

With simplest reverence, and no surprise, The sage received what stretched the donor's eyes;

And, piece by piece, as though it had been food To feast and gloat on, every morsel chewed; And so stood eating, with his patient beard, Till all the nauseous favor disappeared.

Vexed, and confounded, and disposed to find Some ground of scorn on which to ease his mind, "Lokman!" exclaimed his master, "in God's name,

Where could the veriest slave get soul so tame?

Have all my favors been bestowed amiss?

Or could not brains like thine have saved thee this?"

Calmly stood Lokman still, as duty stands-
"Have I received," he answered, “at thine hands
Favors so sweet they went to mine heart's root,
And could I not accept one bitter fruit?"

"O Lokman!" said his lord (and as he spoke, For very love his words in softness broke), "Take but this favor yet: -Be slave no more; Be, as thou art, my friend and counsellor. Oh be; nor let me quit thee, self-abhorred: 'Tis I that am the slave, and thou the lord." LEIGH HUNT (The Bitter Gourd).

S

15

AINT PATRICK, slave to Milcho of the herds

Of Ballymen, awakened with these words: "Arise, and flee

Out from the land of bondage, and be free!"

Glad as a soul in pain who hears from heaven The angels singing of his sins forgiven,

And, wondering, sees

His prison opening to their golden keys,

He rose a man who laid him down a slave, Shook from his locks the ashes of the grave, And outward trod

Into the glorious liberty of God.

He cast the symbols of his shame away;
And, passing where the sleeping Milcho lay,
Though back and limb

Smarted with wrong, he prayed, "God pardon him!"

So went he forth; but in God's time he came To light on Uilline's hills a holy flame;

And, dying, gave

The land a saint that lost him as a slave. WHITTIER (The Proclamation).

16

BOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?"-The vision raised its head, And, with a look made all of sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.”

The angel wrote and vanished. The next night It came again, with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,

And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

LEIGH HUNT (Abou ben Adhem).