The other, no less fair in every part, "Which is the true, and which the false?" she said. Great Solomon was silent. All amazed, Each wondering courtier shook his puzzled head; For very rapture, ne'er would speak again. "Which is the true? 99 once more the woman asked, Pleased at the fond amazement of the King; "So wise a head should not be hardly tasked, Most learned Liege, with such a trivial thing!" But still the sage was silent; it was plain Hunting for honey in a withered rose. 66 The window opened at the King's command; Romance and Reality Romance That wreath was Nature's; and the baffled Queen and Returned to tell the wonders she had seen. Reality My story teaches (every tale should bear A fitting moral) that the wise may find Some useful lesson to enrich the mind- The Burial of Moses “And He buried him in a valley in the land of Moab. over against Beth-peor : but no man knoweth of his sepul chre unto this day."-Deut. xxxiv. 6. By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave, In a vale in the land of Moab And no man knows that sepulchre, For the angels of God upturn'd the sod, Noiselessly as the daylight Comes back when night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek Grows into the great sun; Noiselessly as the spring-time Her crown of verdure weaves, Or voice of them that wept, Perchance the bald old eagle, On grey Beth-peor's height, Out of his lonely eyrie Look'd on the wondrous sight; Perchance the lion stalking, Still shuns that hallow'd spot, For beast and bird have seen and heard But when the warrior dieth, His comrades in the war, With arms reversed and muffled drum, Follow his funeral car; They show the banners taken, They tell his battles won, Romance and Reality Romance And after him lead his masterless steed and Reality While peals the minute gun. Amid the noblest of the land We lay the sage to rest, And give the bard an honour'd place With costly marble drest, In the great minster transept Where lights like glories fall (And the organ rings, and the sweet choir sings) Along the emblazon'd wall. This was the truest warrior That ever breathed a word. On the deathless page truths half so sage As he wrote down for men. And had he not high honour, The hill-side for a pall, To lie in state, while angels wait With stars for tapers tall, And the dark rock-pines, like tossing plumes, Over his bier to wave, And God's own hand in that lonely land To lay him in the grave. In that strange grave without a name, Whence his uncoffin'd clay Shall break again, O wondrous thought! And stand with glory wrapt around On the hills he never trod, And speak of the strife, that won our life, With the Incarnate Son of God. O lonely grave in Moab's land! Ways that we cannot tell, He hides them deep, like the hidden sleep Of him he loved so well. CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER. Romano and Reality |