Hassan Ben Khaled lifted up his eyes
To mine, a moment: then, in cheerful guise, He passed my threshold with unslippered feet.
I led him from the noises of the street To the cool inner chambers, where my slave Poured out the pitcher's rosy-scented wave Over his hands, and laid upon his knee The napkin, silver-fringed and when the pipe. Exhaled a grateful odor from the ripe Latakian leaves, said Hassan unto me : "Listen, O Man! no man can truly say That he hath wisdom. What I sang to-day Was not less truth than what I sang before, But to Truth's house there is a single door, Which is Experience. He teaches best, Who feels the hearts of all men in his breast And knows their strength or weakness through his own. The holy pride, that never was o'erthrown,
Was never tempted, and its words of blame
Reach but the dull ears of the multitude:
The admonitions, fruitful unto good,
Come from the voice of him who conquers shame."
"Give me, O Poet! (if thy friend may be Worthy such confidence," ) I said; "the key Unto thy words, that I may share with thee Thine added wisdom." Hassan's kindly eye Before his lips unclosed, spake willingly, And he began: "But two days since, I went Singing what thou didst hear, with soul intent On my own virtue, all the markets through; And when about the time of prayer, I drew Near to the Gate of Victory, behold! There came a man, whose turban fringed with gold And golden cimeter, bespake his wealth:
May God prolong thy days, O Hassan! Health And Fortune be thy wisdom's aids!' he cried; 'Come to my garden by the river's side, Where other poets wait thee. Be my guest, For even the Prophets had their times of rest, And Rest, that strengthens unto virtuous deeds, Is one with Prayer.' Two royal-blooded steeds, Held by his grooms, were waiting at the gate, And though I shrank from such unwonted state The master's words were manna to my pride, And, mounting straightway, forth we twain did ride Unto the garden by the river's side.
Never till then had I beheld such bloom. The west wind sent its heralds of perfume To bid us welcome, midway on the road. Full in the sun the marble portal glowed Like silver, but within the garden wall No ray of sunshine found a place to fall, So thick the crowning foliage of the trees, Roofing the walks with twilight; and the air Under their tops was greener than the seas, And cool as they. The forms that wandered there Resembled those who populate the floor Of Ocean, and the royal lineage own That gave a Princess unto Persia's throne. All fruits the trees of this fair garden bore, Whose balmy fragrance lured the tongue to taste Their flavors: there bananas flung to waste Their golden flagons with thick honey filled; From splintered cups the ripe pomegranates spilled A shower of rubies; oranges that glow
Like globes of fire, enclosed a heart of snow Which thawed not in their flame; like balls of gold The peaches seemed, that had in blood been rolled; Pure saffron mixed with clearest amber stained
The apricots; bunches of amethyst
And sapphire seemed the grapes, so newly kissed That still the mist of Beauty's breath remained, And where the lotus slowly swung in air Her snowy-bosomed chalice, rosy-veined, The golden fruit swung softly-cradled there, Even as a bell upon the bosom swings Of some fair dancer-happy bell, that sings For joy, its golden tinkle keeping time To the heart's beating and the cymbal's chime! There dates of agate and of jasper lay, Dropped from the bounty of the pregnant palm, And all ambrosial trees, all fruits of balm, All flowers of precious odors, made the day Sweet as a morn of Paradise. My breath Failed with the rapture, and with doubtful mind I turned to where the garden's lord reclined,
And asked, "Was not that gate the Gate of Death?”
The guests were near a fountain. As I came They rose in welcome, wedding to my name
Titles of honor, linked in choicest phrase,
For Poets' ears are ever quick to Praise,
The Open Sesame!' whose magic art
Forces the guarded entrance of the heart.
Young men were they, whose manly beauty made Their words the sweeter, and their speech displayed Knowledge of men, and of the Prophet's laws. Pleasant our converse was, where every pause
Gave to the fountain leave to sing its song, Suggesting further speech; until, ere long, There came a troop of swarthy slaves, who bore Ewers and pitchers all of silver ore,
Wherein we washed our hands; then, tables placed,
And brought us meats of every sumptuous taste
That makes the blood rich
Young lambs, whose entrails were of cloves and rice;
Ducks bursting with pistachio nuts, and fish
That in a bed of parsley swam. Each dish,
Cooked with such art, seemed better than the last, And our indulgence in the rich repast
Brought on the darkness ere we missed the day: But lamps were lighted in the fountain's spray, Or, pendent from the boughs, their colors told What fruits unseen, of crimson or of gold, Scented the gloom. Then took the generous host A basket filled with roses. Every guest
Cried, "Give me roses!" and he thus addressed His words to all: "He who exalts them most
song, he only shall the roses wear."
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