ALI.
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Shall such a base and trivial thingPrevent my peace, and I be king?"
"Let thy slave speak," a voice replied."By the king's word one will have diedBefore this shining day grows dim,—'T is Ali's women mourning him."
Upon his silken cushions thenThe king his slumber sought again;But far away all slumber keptThe while those wailing women wept.Dull to his sense the sweet sounds came,And dark the sunshine's fragrant flame,—Dark as the shameful day should beThat set on Ali's treachery."Let music cease, let none be glad!"The eunuch cried. "The king is sad.But hither bid the Jew, to sing,And satisfy my lord the king,Out of the ancient songs he knowsOf prophets prophesying woes."
And the Jew sang: "O king! the airBlows o'er the fair earth everywhere,
