THE BEAUTY OF GOODNESS.
By Crayon
Hassan, the wood-cutter from morn till night,
Toiled at his heavy task among the trees
With willing hand; and with a heart upright,
Three times a day he prayed upon his knees.
At last long years of work had worn his strength;
His arm no more could level hearty blows,
And scarcely would his toil, at greatest length,
Supply the simple wants the poor man knows.
Still he worked cheerful on, with humble trust,
That for his needs the Lord would yet provide.
One day he prayed "O Prophet! O Most Just!
Who hold'st the highest place by Allah's side—"
"Thy servant now is poor, and weak, and old,
And still, if Allah bids, will labor on;
But if the prayer be right and not too bold,
Do thou pray for him that his task be done."
"Pray the Most Wise, that to a single day,
The allotted earings of my life be send;
Then let my breath pass peacefully away,
And in abundance let my labors end."
That night the wood-cutter in slumbers lay,
When to his sleeping eyes a vision came—
The Prophet's form shining with light like day—
The Prophet's voice addressed him by his name.
"Hassan, thy prayer is heard; life's lengthened years
The Almighty crowds into a single day!—
To-morrow's sunset ends thy cares and fears—
To-morrow brings thy age's destined pay!"
With mornings dawn, the old man grateful wakes,
And, duly turning west-ward, kneels in praise,
As his prayer-carpet from the ground he takes,
A heap of money meets his startled gaze!
The Almighty's gift he knows. "To-day, my last—
The day on which my labors are all done—
Shall, with this bounty, happily be passed,
And others' blessings greet my setting sun."
A feast he makes—he welcomes in the poor,
And for himself a single meal he saves.
The feast is finished;—at the open door,
A stranger stands, who for admission craves:
"Have pity on an outcast,—give me food,
And peace rest on thee." With a quick reply;
"Come, eat with me," says Hassan; "God is good!
What matter, if with half a meal I die!"
The stranger ate, and grateful took his way,
Hassan was left alone, when once again,
A cry disturbed the calm of closing day—
The cry of one in hunger's bitter pain.
The old man hastes to help the beggar in,
And gave him all that for himself he meant
Wishing, indeed, it had more plenty been,
And feeling in his heart a sweet content.
Fasting, but peaceful, Hassan slept that night,
The blessings of the poor to heaven rise,
And, borne by angels clothed in holy light,
Enter the pearly gates of Paradise.
That night, once more, the Prophet's form appeared
He spoke to Hassan, and he sweetly smiled;
"The blessings of the poor the Lord has heard;
The Lord approves thee as his worthy child.
"And now he bids thee as his steward, live—
Live out thy destined, lengthened years below;
To thee his gracious hand will freely give,
And what he gives do thou again bestow."
Long years, in happiness, old Hassan lived—
The poor pray'd for him; Allah heard their prayers:
And when life closed, he that pure joy received,
Which for his faithful the Most High prepares.
[Crayon.]