135

ABOU BEN ADHEM

Abou 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 all made of sweet accord,

Answered, "The names of those that love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low
But cheerily 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

136

ABRAM AND ZIMRI

Abram and Zimri owned a field together

A level field hid in a happy vale;

They plowed it with one plow, and in the spring
Sowed, walking side by side, the fruitful seed.

In harvest, when the glad earth smiled with grain,
Each carried to his home one-half the sheaves,
And stored them with much labor in his barns.
Now Abram had a wife and seven sons,

But Zimri dwelt alone within his house.

One night, before the sheaves were gathered in, As Zimri lay upon his lonely bed

And counted in his mind his little gains,
He thought upon his brother Abram's lot,
And said, "I dwell alone within my house,
But Abram hath a wife and seven sons,
And yet we share the harvest sheaves alike.
He surely needeth more for life than I;
I will arise, and gird myself, and go
Down to the field, and add to his from mine."

So he arose, and girded up his loins, And went out softly to the level field;

The moon shone out from dusky bars of clouds, The trees stood black against the cold blue sky, The branches waved and whispered in the wind. So Zimri, guided by the shifting light,

Went down the mountain path, and found the field,

Took from his store of sheaves a generous third,
And bore them gladly to his brother's heap,
And then went back to sleep and happy dreams.

Now, that same night, as Abram lay in bed,
Thinking upon his blissful state in life,
He thought upon his brother Zimri's lot,
And said, "He dwells within his house alone,
And goeth forth to toil with few to help,
And goeth home at night to a cold house,
And hath few other friends but me and mine "
(For these two tilled the happy vale alone),
"While I, whom Heaven hath very greatly blessed,
Dwell happy with my wife and seven sons,
Who aid me in my toil, and make it light,
And yet we share the harvest sheaves alike.
This surely is not pleasing unto God;

I will arise, and gird myself, and go
Out to the field and borrow from my store,
And add unto my brother Zimri's pile.”

So he arose and girded up his loins,
And went down softly to the level field;
The moon shone out from silver bars of clouds,
The trees stood black against the starry sky,

The dark leaves waved and whispered in the breeze;
So Abram, guided by the doubtful light,
Passed down the mountain path, and found the field,
Took from his store of sheaves a generous third,
And added them unto his brother's heap;
Then he went back to sleep and happy dreams.

So the next morning, with the early sun,
The brothers rose, and went out to their toil;
And when they came to see the heavy sheaves,
Each wondered in his heart to find his heap,
Though he had given a third, was still the same.

Now the next night went Zimri to the field, Took from his store of sheaves a generous share, And placed them on his brother Abram's heap, And then lay down behind his pile to watch. The moon looked out from bars of silvery cloud, The cedars stood up black against the sky, The olive branches whispered in the wind.

Then Abram came down softly from his home, And, looking to the right and left, went on; Took from his ample store a generous third, And laid it on his brother Zimri's pile. Then Zimri rose and caught him in his arms, And wept upon his neck, and kissed his cheek; And Abram saw the whole, and could not speak, Neither could Zimri. So they walked along Back to their homes, and thanked their God in

prayer

That He had bound them in such loving bands.

CLARENCE COOK

137

ONLY A JEW

In Brittany, fair land, long years ago,
Lived one of those

Despised and desolate, whose records show
Insults and blows,

Their old inheritance of wrong; who were
Free once as eyelids of the morn, nor care
Knew, nor annoy.

In that city of joy,

Heav'n-chosen child, whom none to harm might dare,

Lived one who did as if his God stood near,
Watching his deed;

Slow to give answer, ever swift to hear;
Whose brain would breed,

Walking alone, or watching through the night,
No idle thought; but he with ill would fight,
And day by day

Would wax alway

Wiser and better and nearer to the light.

And in this land a mother lost her child,
And charged the Jew

With crucifying him, who calmly smiled
Denial. "You

Have slain," quoth she, "to keep your Passover,
My son with sorceries." He answered her,

"Your wit must fail;

An idle tale

Is this; what proof thereof can you prefer?"