Classic Poem

" Give me Fame, " cried the genius.
The wizard's smile was grim;
His arm stretched forth and a tasteless fruit
Plucked from a rotten limb.
" I seek, sir, Fame, " cried the genius,
" Ye have given me instead
A rotten fruit. " The wizard spoke:
" This is Fame, " he said.

" Give me Power, " cried the monarch.
The wizard smiled again.
A crown of thorns he gave to him
And a sword with a bloody stain.
" But I seek Power, " cried the monarch,
" What have ye given instead? "
The wizard spoke: " I tell thee, Sire,
These are Power, " he said.

" Give me Love, " cried the maiden.
The wizard sadly smiled;
A bleeding heart he gave to her,
And the form of a cold, dead child.
" I asked for Love, " mused the maiden,
" Ye have given me Grief instead. "
The wizard sighed and softly spoke:
" Love is Grief, " he said.

" Give me Peace, " cried a weary soul.
The wizard laughed aloud,
Drew forth from his store of treasure
And gave to him a shroud.
" I asked for Peace, " he shuddered,
" Ye give me Death, instead. "
The wizard mused. " I tell thee
That this is Peace, " he said.