THE KING'S GIFTS.
Reading edition
Cyrus the king in royal mood Portioned his gifts as seemed him good: To Artabasus, proud to hold The priceless boon, a cup of gold— A rare-wrought thing: its jewelled brim Haloed a nectar sweet to him. No flavor fine it seemed to miss; But when the king stooped down, a kiss To leave upon Chrysantas' lips, The jewels paled in dull eclipse To Artabasus: hard and cold And empty grew the cup of gold. "Better, O Sire, than mine," cried he, "I deem Chrysantas' gift to be." Yet the wise king his courtiers knew, And unto each had given his due. To all who watch and all who wait The king will come, or soon or late. Choose well: thy secret wish is known, And thou shalt surely have thine own— A golden cup thy poor wealth's sign, Or on thy lips Love's seal divine.
EMILY A. BRADDOCK