| |
| JAFFAR, the Barmecide, the good vizier, | |
| The poor man’s hope, the friend without a peer, | |
| Jaffar was dead, slain by a doom unjust; | |
| And guilty Haroun, sullen with mistrust | |
| Of what the good, and e’en the bad, might say, | 5 |
| Ordained that no man living from that day | |
| Should dare to speak his name on pain of death. | |
| All Araby and Persia held their breath; | |
| |
| All but the brave Mondeer: he, proud to show | |
| How far for love a grateful soul could go, | 10 |
| And facing death for very scorn and grief | |
| (For his great heart wanted a great relief), | |
| Stood forth in Bagdad daily, in the square | |
| Where once had stood a happy house, and there | |
| Harangued the tremblers at the scymitar | 15 |
| On all they owed to the divine Jaffar. | |
| |
| “Bring me this man,” the caliph cried; the man | |
| Was brought, was gazed upon. The mutes began | |
| To bind his arms. “Welcome, brave cords,” cried he; | |
| “From bonds far worse Jaffar delivered me; | 20 |
| From wants, from shames, from loveless household fears; | |
| Made a man’s eyes friends with delicious tears; | |
| Restored me, loved me, put me on a par | |
| With his great self. How can I pay Jaffar?” | |
| |
| Haroun, who felt that on a soul like this | 25 |
| The mightiest vengeance could but fall amiss, | |
| Now deigned to smile, as one great lord of fate | |
| Might smile upon another half as great. | |
| He said, “Let worth grow frenzied if it will; | |
| The caliph’s judgment shall be master still. | 30 |
| Go, and since gifts so move thee, take this gem, | |
| The richest in the Tartar’s diadem, | |
| And hold the giver as thou deemest fit!” | |
| “Gifts!” cried the friend; he took, and holding it | |
| High toward the heavens, as though to meet his star, | 35 |
| Exclaimed, “This, too, I owe to thee, Jaffar!” | |
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