Chapter I: Story of Ibn-Abdul-Aziz and his Signet Ring

Of people discreet, one among the grandees,A story relates of Ibn-Abdul-Aziz:—His ring had a stone in its centre, so rare,That the jeweller could not its value declare.At night, you'd have said that that world-lighting ray,Was a gem that in brightness resembled the day.It happened one year that a famine set in,And full-moon-like men as the crescent grew thin.When of comfort and strength he saw men dispossessed,He thought it unmanly that he should have rest.When in ev'ry one's mouth one sees poison, alas!Adown his own throat when will sweet water pass?He ordered, they bartered the jewel for gold,For he pitied the orphan, the poor, and the old.For the space of a week he gave money, like spoil,To the poor and the needy and weak of the soil.The censurers blamed him for doing amiss,Saying, " Hope not again for a jewel like this !"I have heard that he said—and a shower of tearsTrickled down his pale cheeks, as a candle appears—"Very ugly an ornament shows on the king,Whose subjects are tortured by Poverty's sting.A ring without gems is becoming to me;The people's hearts sad 'tis unpleasant to see."He is happy who tries man and woman to please,And prefers others' joy to his own selfish ease.Those cherishing virtue no eagerness showFor delight to themselves, wrung from other men's woe.If the monarch sleeps happy, reclined on his throne,To the poor, I suspect, soothing sleep is unknown.And if through the night-long he vigils should keep,In comfort and pleasure his subjects will sleep.And, praise be to God ! this right nature and road,On Atabak-Bu-Bakar-Bin-Sad are bestowed.Of tumult in Persia, one sees not a trace,Excepting the moon-visaged's figure and face.A song of five couplets I heard with delight,That was sung at a musical party last night.