ONCE on a time, at Erivan, There dwelt a poor but honest man Who kept a little garden, where There grew much fruit, so fine and fair, So large and juicy, ripe and sound, 'T was known for many leagues around. One day a neighbor, looking o'er The autumn's wealth, a goodly store, Advised the owner thus: "Good man, Take some of these to Ispahan; 'T will please the King, who, I am told, Cares more for luxury than gold; And so your fortune you'll increase By many a shining golden piece." "Faith! so I will!" the man replies. Then to the market-place he hies; The finest basket he can find He buys, then stores it to his mind With choicest fruit of every sort, And off he starts for king and court. Arrived, the Marshal asks his name, And, learning whence and why he came He bade him enter. That's the way It was in Persia, -- and to-day In every land, except our own, The same partiality is shown; The giver finds an open gate, While he who seeks may stand and wait! The King, delighted with the fruit, Returned his thanks, -- and would it suit The worthy man to bring some more? Ah, that it would! Was e'er before A man so lucky? Now, the while He waits to catch the royal smile, And get his pay, he stares at all So new and strange -- the lofty hall, And people there; among the rest, To put his manners to the test, An ugly little dwarf he spies, A hunchback of such paltry size The gardener laughed aloud. Alack. "The fellow with the crooked back And bandy legs! -- who could have known That he in rank was next the throne? Though small in size, in honor great, In fact, Prime Minister of State!" His Honor scowled and looked around, And on the stranger grimly frowned. Enough! the guard, who understand The hint, now take the chap in hand, And, quicker than you read the tale, The gardener finds himself in jail! Here, quite forgotten, he remained, Of light and liberty restrained, For twelve long months; and might, no doubt, Have been still longer getting out, Had not the king, grown hard to suit, Made mention of the finer fruit The stranger brought a year ago, And thus his Majesty would know What it might mean, and why the man Had come no more to Ispahan? Now, when the truth was brought to light, The King -- who laughed with all his might To hear about the strange mishap -- Said, "Go, my men! and bring the chap; 'T is fit I make him some amends." Forth comes the gardener, and at tends Upon the King, who says, "I've heard The story, fellow, every word, And fain some recompense would make; Indeed, it was a grave mistake, Although it makes me laugh to split My sides -- ha! ha! -- to think of it! Now, name your wish, -- an easy task, -- And I will grant whate'er you ask." "Then grant me this," replied the man, "An axe, some salt, an Alkoran. Well, that will do; of all your store Those will suffice, -- I ask no more." "Strange things to ask!" exclaimed the King, "Now tell the meaning of this thing." "The axe I want to fell the tree That bore the fruit I gave to thee; The salt, upon the earth to sow, That none thereon again may grow; The Alkoran, that I may swear, While I enjoy God's blessed air, That I will never darken more (With my consent) a palace door!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARIS IN SPRING by SARA TEASDALE THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK by SARA TEASDALE THE TIGER, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE WIDOW AT WINDSOR by RUDYARD KIPLING AUNTIE'S SKIRTS by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SPIRIT WHOSE WORK IS DONE (WASHINGTON CITY, 1865) by WALT WHITMAN MOUNT AGASSIZ by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES |