Poems (Whitney)/The shah

by Anne Whitney

THE SHAH.

 Nay, said the Persian, you are wrong;
We are the centre; earth stands still,
And the sun and stars revolve at will
 Round and round forever.
The Shah in the midst stands up erect;
We and the Shah are the Gods' elect,
 All things were made for us.

 O regal Persian, had you eyes
On your grand height, for what goes on
Beyond the Shah's dominion,
 Well might you open them!
Tis good to look at you and smile,
Though we plume our wings and say the while,
 Look here, what a mistake!

 'Tis but the breach of an old command,
To covet for self what's made for all,
The meanest of sins since Adam's fall:—
 Let us not laugh at it!
How many stand up and say in effect,
We and the Shah are the Gods' elect,
 All things were made for us!

 O Sun, that sweetly laughest o'er all,
O winds, that of the open heaven
Sing to us morn and eke at even,
 Patience, bear with u$ long!
We are not base, we are but dull—
Plead on, till human souls are full,
 And match your light and song!