As a little torrent swollen by snows is turned to a terrible stream, So the gathering voices of all his countries cried to the king in his dream.
Crying, "For thee, O our king, for thee we had freely and willingly died, Warriors, martyrs, what thou wilt; not that our lives betide "The worth of a thought to the king, but rather because thy rod Is over our heads as over thine Is the changeless will of God.
"Rather for this we beseech thee, O master, for thine own sake refrain From the blasphemous madness of pride, from the fever of impious gain."
"You seek my death," the king thundered; "you cry, forbear to save The life of a king too old to frolic; let him sleep in the grave.
"But I will live for all your treason; and, by my own right hand!
I will set out this day with you to conquer Fairyland."
Then all the nations paled aghast, for the battle to begin Was a war with God, and a war with death, and they knew the thing was sin.
Sick at heart they gathered together, but none denounced the wrong, For the will of God was unseen, unsaid, and the will of the king was strong.
So the air grew bright with spears, and the earth shook under the tread Of the mighty horses harnessed for battle; the standards flaunted red.
And the wind was loud with the blare of trumpets, and every house was void Of the strength and stay of the house, and the peace of the land destroyed.
And the growing corn was trodden under the weight of armed feet, And every woman in Persia cursed the sound of a song too sweet, Cursed the insensate longing for life in the heart of a sick old man;
But the king of Persia with all his armies marched on Masinderan.
Many a day they marched in the sun till their silver armour was lead To sink their bodies into the grave, and many a man fell dead.
And they passed the mouth of hell, and the shadowy country gray, Where the air is mist and the people mist and the rain more real than they.
And they came to the fount of wonder, and forded the waters wan, And the king of Persia and all his armies marched on Masinderan.
And they turned the rivers to blood, and the fields to a ravaged camp, And they neared the golden faery town, that burned in the dusk as a lamp.
And they stood and shouted for joy to see it stand so nigh, Given into their hands for spoil; and their hearts beat proud and high.
And the armies longed for the morrow, to conquer the shining town, For there was no death in the land, neither any to strike them down.
The hosts were many in numbers, mighty, and skilled in the strife, And they lusted for gold and conquest as the old king lusted for life.
And, gazing on the golden place, night took them unaware, And black and windy grew the skies, and black the eddying air So long the night and black the night that fell upon their eyes, They quaked with fear, those mighty hosts; the sun would never rise.
Darkness and deafening sounds confused the black, tempestuous air, And no man saw his neighbor's face, nor heard his neighbor's prayer.
And wild with terror the raging armies fell on each other in fight, The ground was strewn with wounded men, mad in the horrible night Mad with eternal pain, with darkness and stabbing blows Rained on all sides from invisible hands till the ground was red as a rose.
And, though he was longing for rest, none ventured to pause from the strife, Lest haply another wound be his to poison his hateful life And the king entreated death; and for peace the armies prayed;
But the gifts of God are everlasting, his word is not gainsaid;
Gold and battle are given the hosts, their boon is turned to a ban, And the curse of the king is to reign forever in conquered Masinderan.
A. MARY F. ROBINSON.
Handy Spandy, Jack-a-Dandy, Loved plum cake and sugar candy;
He bought some at a grocer's shop And out he come with a hop. hop, hop.
Jocko is a monkey, Dressed just like a clown;
With the grinding-organ man He travels round the town.
Jocko, Jocko, climb a pole, Jocko climb a tree, Jocko, Jocko, tip your cap, And make a bow to me.
