  A famous king would build a church, A temple vast and grand; And, that the praise might be his own, He gave a strict command That none should add the smallest gift To aid the work he planned. And when the mighty dome was done, Within the noble frame, Upon a tablet broad and fair, In letters all aflame With burnished gold, the people read The royal builder’s name. Now when the king, elate with pride, That night had sought his bed, He dreamed he saw an angel come (A halo round his head), Erase the royal name, and write Another in its stead. What could it mean? Three times that night That wondrous vision came; Three times he saw that angel hand Erase the royal name, And write a woman’s in its stead, In letters all aflame. Whose could it be? He gave command To all about his throne To seek the owner of the name That on the tablet shone; And so it was the courtiers found A widow poor and lone. The king, enraged at what he heard, Cried, “Bring the culprit here!” And to the woman, trembling sore, He said, “’Tis very clear That you have broken my command; Now, let the truth appear!” “Your Majesty,” the widow said, “I can’t deny the truth; I love the Lord—my Lord and yours— And so, in simple sooth, I broke Your Majesty’s command (I crave your royal ruth), “And since I had no money, sire, Why, I could only pray That God would bless Your Majesty; And when along the way The horses drew the stones, I gave To one a wisp of hay.” “Ah! now I see,” the king exclaimed: “Self-glory was my aim; The woman gave for love of God, And not for worldly fame. ’Tis my command the tablet bear The pious widow’s name.” —John Godfrey Saxe. Teach me to feel another’s woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me. |
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