Part 4 — THE WORLD'S WAY
Reading edition
At Haroun's court it chanced, upon a time, An Arab poet made this pleasant rhyme:
"The new moon is a horseshoe, wrought of God, Wherewith the Sultan's stallion shall be shod."
On hearing this, the Sultan smiled, and gave The man a gold-piece. Sing again, O slave!
Above his lute the happy singer bent, And turned another gracious compliment.
And, as before, the smiling Sultan gave The man a sekkah. Sing again, O slave!
Again the verse came, fluent as a rill That wanders, silver-footed, down a hill.
The Sultan, listening, nodded as before, Still gave the gold, and still demanded more.
The nimble fancy that had climbed so high Grew weary with its climbing by and by:
Strange discords rose; the sense went quite amiss; The singer's rhymes refused to meet and kiss:
Invention flagged, the lute had got unstrung, And twice he sang the song already sung.
The Sultan, furious, called a mute, and said, O Musta, straightway whip me off his head!
Poets! not in Arabia alone You get beheaded when your skill is gone.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich [1837-1907]