REMOTE behind the Sultan's palace wall That silent rises out of teeming Fez, A foreign guest, who oft broke bread there, says One day at food a morsel was let fall; And Abd-ul, keen of eye, did gently call Devout slaves to restore the slighted shred — So prized in his religion is mere bread To the great lord of that imperial hall. Up to the table of this life we sit, With sultan some, and some with tribesman placed. The fare is wheat or barley on our plate, And as we break the brittle loaf of it 'Tis well to think what fragments we do waste Which our companions may deem consecrate. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FISH-LEAP FALL by ROBERT FROST TRIFLE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE TREE OF SONG by SARA TEASDALE VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 9. VILLA SEBELLONI, BELLAGGIO by SARA TEASDALE PORTRAIT OF A MACHINE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER A MAN TO A WOMAN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS |