Classic Poem

Great Ali, the Sultan, I've heard —
(Please attend to my proem!),
Was shrewd as the serpent — aye, Solon to him was a dunce;
Who else could repeat every word
Of a sermon, a poem,
Or any old thing that was spoken before him but once?

While Eben al Hamid, his short
Ethiopic attendant
And factum factotum, they say could repeat in a trice
The plea of a lawyer in court
For a guilty defendant,
Or President's Message (perhaps), if he heard it but twice.

Whenever a bard would intone
An original sonnet
(For Sultans, you know, are the prey of the metrical bore),
" That's ancient, " the Ruler would groan,
As Mehitable's bonnet!
Now listen, and see for yourself that I've heard it before. "

Whereat he would echo each phrase
With precision emphatic;
And Eben, in turn, would repeat, never missing a rhyme;
The poet would slink in a daze
To his sorrowful attic,
While Eben and Ali would laugh for a week at a time.

Then Ali proclaimed in his pride:
" For reward I will measure
The weight of that poem in gold which is proved to be new. "
And many a balladist tried
For that fistful of treasure;
But penniless, puzzled, and shamed every singer withdrew.

At length came a minstrel of guile
(From the West, so I fear me);
He tinkled his merry guitar and addressed him to sing:
" Your Highness, " quoth he with a smile,
" Will it please ye to hear me?
I've something that's Purely Unique — 'tis a Poem on Spring. —

" A Genuine Triumph of Mind
That is urgently needed
By seventeen best magazines. Have I leave to begin? "
" Proceed, " sighed the Sultan, resigned;
And the Minstrel proceeded
To startle the court with this Chant of Original Sin:

" 'Tis Spring on the lily-white leas
Of the Forest of Arden!
'Tis Spring! and the blossoms appear and the leveret plays;
The butterflies drift on the breeze
To the elf-haunted garden;
The birdies of meadow and grove are rehearsing their lays.

" " Bo-peep! Hullychee!" sings the Flick;
" Korry-boo!" moans the Chitter;
" Quee-boggle-chee-pilli-moran!" sobs the Killi-koloo.
" Ping-pong! Watchi-toodle-kerwick!"
All the Merimees twitter.
The Niblick avers, " Kalli-bosh, taradiddle, koroo."

" " Go-dum, bally-hoosh!" is the note
Of the Icthyosaurus.
" Notorum-dorando!" the blithe Hippocampus replies;
" Chim-chim-orizaba-pelote!"
Rings the jubilant chorus
Of sweet Pterodactyls that wing the cerulean skies.

" " The Kiddle observes to his mate,
" Borum-ago-majellum,
Elan, rododacktylos bree." While the somnolent Bruff
Ascends to the heavenly gate
Chanting, " Ho! Parabellum
Enteuthen — — " " " Help! Stop! Oh, my head! " cried the Sultan; " Enough!

" I've echoed queer words, I admit,
All your brotherhood downing;
But who could repeat these uncivilized sounds you have made!
Your poem should make quite a hit
With the students of Browning —
So bring in your Manuscript, friend, and the gold shall be weighed. "

The Poet went forth, and returned
With his holiday sash on,
Propelling a cart with a load of the heaviest brick
On which he had graven and burned,
Babylonian fashion,
The " words " of his poem! — a mean, reprehensible trick!

The Sultan, demurring, 'tis true,
Made an end by bestowing
The weight of that poem in gold, — a prodigious expense.
And this have I sung unto you
For the purpose of showing
That even Spring Poets may manifest hard common sense!