In penance for stealing the Abbot's corn,
High on the hollow tree.

Sin is a load upon the breast;

And it nightly breaks the Raven's rest,
High on the hollow tree.

The Raven pray'd the Winter through,-
Sing woe, and alas is me!

The hail it fell, the winds they blew,
High on the hollow tree,-

Until the Spring came forth again,
And the Abbot's men to sow their grain
Around the hollow tree.

Alas! alas for earthly vows,

Sing alas! and woe is me!

Whether they're made by men or crows
High on the hollow tree!

The Raven swoop'd upon the seed,
And met his death in the very deed,
Beneath the hollow tree.

So beat we our breasts in shame of sin,—
Alas! and woe is me!

While all is hollowness within :

Alas! and woe is me!

And when the ancient Tempter smiles,
So yield we our souls up to his wiles :
Alas! and woe is me!

BAYARD TAYLOR.

1825-1878.

THE WISDOM OF ALI.

The Prophet once, sitting in calm debate,
Said "I am Wisdom's fortress; but the gate
Thereof is Ali." Wherefore some who heard

With unbelieving jealousy were stirr'd;

And, that they might on him confusion bring, Ten of the boldest join'd to prove the thing. "Let us in turn to Ali go!" they said,— "And ask if Wisdom should be sought instead Of earthly riches: then, if he reply

To each of us in thought accordantly,

And yet to none in speech or phrase the same, His shall the honour be, and ours the shame." Now, when the first his bold demand did make, These were the words which Ali straightway spake : "Wisdom is the inheritance of those

Whom Allah favours; riches of his foes."

Unto the second he said—“ Thy self must be
Guard to thy wealth; but Wisdom guardeth thee."
Unto the third-" By Wisdom wealth is won;
But riches purchased Wisdom yet for none.”
Unto the fourth-" Thy goods the thief may take;
But into Wisdom's house he can not break."
Unto the fifth-" Thy goods decrease the more
Thou givest; but use enlarges Wisdom's store.”
Unto the sixth-" Wealth tempts to evil ways;
But the desire of Wisdom is God's praise."

Unto the seventh-" Divide thy wealth, each part
Becomes a pittance; give with open heart
Thy Wisdom, and each separate gift shall be
All that thou hast, yet not impoverish thee."
Unto the eighth-" Wealth can not keep itself;
But Wisdom is the steward even of pelf."

Unto the ninth-" The camels slowly bring
Thy goods; but Wisdom has the swallow's wing."
And lastly, when the tenth did question make,
These were the ready words which Ali spake :

"Wealth is a darkness which the soul should fear; But Wisdom is the lamp that makes it clear."

Crimson with shame the questioners withdrew,

And they declared-" The Prophet's words were true :
The mouth of Ali is the golden door

Of Wisdom." When his friends to Ali bore

These words, he smiled and said: "And should they ask
The same until my dying day, the task

Were easy, for the stream from Wisdom's well,
Which God supplies, is inexhaustible."

BEDOUIN SONG.

From the Desert I come to thee,
On a stallion shod with fire;
And the winds are left behind
In the speed of my desire!
Under thy window I stand,

And the midnight hears my cry—

I love thee, I love but thee,

With a love that shall not die

Till the sun grows cold

And the stars are old

And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold.

Look from thy window, and see

My passion and my pain!

I lie on the sands below,

And I faint in thy disdain.

Let the night winds touch thy brow
With the heat of my burning sigh,

And melt thee to hear the vow

Of a love that shall not die

Till the sun grows cold

And the stars are old.

And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold.

My steps are nightly driven
By the fever in my breast
To hear from thy lattice breathed
The word that shall give me rest.
Open the door of thy heart!

And open thy chamber door!
And my kisses shall teach thy lips
The love that shall fade no more
Till the sun grows cold

And the stars are old

And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold.

THE ARAB TO THE PALM.

Next to thee, O fair Gazelle !

O Beddowee Girl, beloved so well!

Next to the fearless Nedjidee,

Whose fleetness shall bear me again to thee,—

Next to ye both I love the Palm,

With his leaves of beauty, his fruit of balm :

Next to ye both I love the Tree

Whose fluttering shadow wraps us three

With love and silence and mystery.

Our tribe is many, our poets vie

With any under the Arab sky:

Yet none can sing of the Palm but I.

The marble minarets that begem
Cairo's citadel-diadem

Are not so light as his slender stem.

He lifts his leaves in the sunbeam's glance,
As the Almehs lift their arms in dance :

A slumbrous motion, a passionate sign,
That works in the cells of the blood like wine.

Full of passion and sorrow is he,
Dreaming where the Belovèd may be.
And when the warm South-Winds arise,
He breathes his longing in fervid sighs,
Quickening odours, kisses of balm,
That drop in the lap of his chosen Palm.

The sun may flame and the sands may stir,
But the breath of his passion reaches her.

O Tree of Love! by that love of thine,
Teach me how I shall soften mine!

Give me the secret of the Sun,
Whereby the woo'd is ever won!

If I were a king, O stately Tree!
A likeness, glorious as might be,

In the court of my palace I'd build for thee :
With a shaft of silver burnish'd bright,
And leaves of beryl and malachite,

With spikes of golden bloom ablaze,
And fruits of topaz and chrysoprase.

And there the poets in thy praise
Should night and morning frame new lays,-
New measures sung to tunes divine :
But none, O Palm! should equal mine.

RICHARD HENRY STODDARD.
1825-

BRAHMA'S ANSWER.
Once, when the days were ages,

And the old Earth was young,
The high Gods and the sages
From Nature's golden pages

Her open secrets wrung.