POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 1883, 6 March 1880, Page 3

POETRY.

TWO WAYS OF PUTTING IT. • The Sultan awoke with a stifled scream ; His nerves were shocked by a fearful dream; An omen of terrible import and donbt— His teeth in one moment all fell out. His wisemen assembled at the break of day, And stood by the throne in solemn array. And when the terrible dream was told. Each felt a shudder, his blood ran oold, And all stood silent, in fear and dread, And wondering what was best to bo said. At length an old soothsayer, wrinkled and gray. Cried, ‘‘Pardon, my lord, what I have to say; •‘ 'Tis an omen of sorrow sent from on high ; Thou shalt see all thy kindred die.” Wroth waa the Saltan; he gnashed his teeth, And his very words seemed to hiss and

seethe. As he ordered the wiseman bound with chains. And gave him a hundred stripes for his

pains. The wisemen shook as the Sultan’s eye Swept round to see who next would try; Bnt one of them, stepping before the throne, Exclaimed, in a lond and joyous tone : “Exult, O head of a happy state ! Rejoice, O heir of a glorious fate ! For this is the favor thou shalt win, O Sultan—to outlive all thy kin 1” Pleased was the Snltan, and called a slave, And a hundred crowns to the wiseman gave. But the courtiers they nod, with grave, sly

winks, And each one whispers what each one

thinks; “ Well can the Sultan reward and blame : Didn’t both of the wisemen foretell the

same ?’ Quoth the crafty old Vizier, shaking his

head. So much may depend on the way a thing’s said!”