Classic Poem

AN EASTERN LEGEND

An aged man came late to Abraham's tent.
The sky was dark, and all the plain was bare.
He asked for bread; his strength was wellnigh spent,
His haggard look implored the tenderest care.
The food was brought. He sat with thankful eyes,
But spake no grace, nor bowed he towards the east.
Safe sheltered here from dark and angry skies,
The bounteous table seemed a royal feast.
But ere his hand had touched the tempting fare,
The Patriarch rose, and leaning on his rod —
" Stranger, " he said, " dost thou not bow in prayer?
Dost thou not fear, dost thou not worship God? "
He answered, " Nay. " The Patriarch sadly said:
" Thou hast my pity. Go! eat not my bread. "

Another came that wild and fearful night.
The fierce winds raged, and darker grew the sky;
But all the tent was filled with wondrous light,
And Abraham knew the Lord his God was nigh.
" Where is that aged man? " the Presence said,
" That asked for shelter from the driving blast?
Who made thee master of thy Master's bread?
What right hadst thou the wanderer forth to cast? "
" Forgive me, Lord, " the Patriarch answer made,
With downeast look, with bowed and trembling knee.
" Ah me! the stranger might with me have stayed,
But, O my God, he would not worship Thee. "
" I've borne him long, " God said, " and still I wait;
Couldst thou not lodge him one night in thy gate? "