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| KING SOLOMON stood in the house of the Lord, | |
| And the Genii silently wrought around, | |
| Toiling and moiling without a word, | |
| Building the temple without a sound. | |
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| Fear and rage were theirs, but naught, | 5 |
| In mien or face, of fear or rage; | |
| For had he guessed their secret thought, | |
| They had pined in hell for many an age. | |
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| Closed were the eyes that the demons feared; | |
| Over his breast streamed his silver beard; | 10 |
| Bowed was his head, as if in prayer, | |
| As if, through the busy silence there, | |
| The answering voice of God he heard. | |
| |
| Solemn peace was on his brow, | |
| Leaning upon his staff in prayer; | 15 |
| And a breath of wind would come and go, | |
| And stir his robe, and beard of snow, | |
| And long white hair; | |
| But he heeded not, | |
| Wrapt afar in holy thought. | 20 |
| |
| King Solomon stood in the house of the Lord, | |
| And the Genii silently wrought around, | |
| Toiling and moiling without a word, | |
| Building the temple without a sound. | |
| |
| And now the work was done, | 25 |
| Perfected in every part; | |
| And the demons rejoiced at heart, | |
| And made ready to depart, | |
| But dared not speak to Solomon, | |
| To tell him their task was done, | 30 |
| And fulfilled the desire of his heart. | |
| |
| So around him they stood with eyes of fire. | |
| Each cursing the king in his secret heart,— | |
| Secretly cursing the silent king, | |
| Waiting but till he should say “Depart;” | 35 |
| Cursing the king, | |
| Each evil thing: | |
| But he heeded them not, nor raised his head; | |
| For King Solomon was dead! | |
| |
| Then the body of the king fell down; | 40 |
| For a worm had gnawed his staff in twain. | |
| He had prayed to the Lord that the house he planned | |
| Might not be left for another hand, | |
| Might not unfinished remain; | |
| So praying, he had died, | 45 |
| But had not prayed in vain. | |
| |
| So the body of the king fell down, | |
| And howling fled the fiends amain; | |
| Bitterly grieved, to be so deceived, | |
| Howling afar they fled; | 50 |
| Idly they had borne his chain, | |
| And done his hateful tasks, in dread | |
| Of mystic penal pain,— | |
| And King Solomon was dead! | |
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