Polycrates and His Ring

HE stood upon his palace-wall.
His proud eye wandered over all
The wealth of Samos, east and west.
"See! this is mine — all this / govern!"
He said, addressing Egypt's Sovereign,
"Confess! my lot indeed is blest!"

"Yes, thou hast won the Gods high favor,
For nobler men than thou, and braver,
Thy rivals once, are now thy slaves;
But, Fate will soon revenge the wrong —
I dare not call thee blest, so long
As Heaven is just or Earth has graves!"

While yet he spake, behold! there came
A messenger in Milo's name —
"Health to the great Polycrates!
O King, braid laurels in thy hair,
And let new Pa3ans thrill the air,
And incense-offerings load the breeze!

"Spear-pierced, thy rebel foe lies dead,
Behold! I bear the traitor's head,
Sent by thy General, Polydore." —
Unrolling a dark shroud of cloth,
He bared, before the gaze of both,
A ghastly head, still dropping gore!

The Stranger King shrank back a pace,
Then said — " Thou art of mortal race:
On earth Success but heralds ill.
Thou hast a fleet at sea: Beware!
For waves and winds heed no man's prayer
And Tempest wakes at Neptune's will!"

But hark! a loud, a deafening shout
Of welcome from the throng without!
"Joy! joy!" The fleet so long away,
So long away, so long awaited,
At last is come, and, richly freighted,
Casts anchor in the exulting bay!"

The Royal Guest hears all, astounded.
"Thy triumphs, truly, seem unbounded,
But are they? No! Thy star will set;
The javelins of the Cretan hordes
Strike surer home than Samian swords,
And thou must fall before them yet!" —

Even while he warns again rejoice
The crowd with one tumultuous voice —
"Hurrah! Dread Sovereign, live alway!
The war is over! Lo! the storms
Have wrecked thy foes! The savage swarms
Of Crete and Thrace are Neptune's prey!"

"It is enough!" exclaimed the Guest:
Blind Mortal! call thyself The Blest-
Feel all that Pride and Conquest can!
I here predict thine overthrow,
For, perfect bliss, unstarred with woe,
Came never yet from God to Man.

"I too have been most fortunate:
At borne, abroad, in camp and state,
The bounteous Gods long favored me —
Yet I have wept! My only-cherished,
My son died in my arms! He perished,
And paid my debt to Destiny.

"If thou, then, wilt propitiate Fate,
Pray God forthwith to adulterate
Thy Cup of Joy! In all my past
Experience never knew I one
"Who too long filled a golden throne,
But Kuin crushed the wretch at last!

"But if God will not hear thy prayer,
Then woo Misfortune by some snare,
Even as the fowler sets his gin.
Hast here some jewel, some rare treasure,
Thou lovest, prizest beyond measure?
The sea rolls yonder — hurl it in!"

Replied the Host, now seized with fear,
"My realm hath naught I hold so dear
As this resplendent opal ring;
If that may cairn the Furies' wrath,
Behold! I cast it in their path;" —
And forth he flung the glittering thing.

But when the morn again was come,
There stood without the palace-dome
A fisher with his teeming flasket,
Who cried, u Great King, thy days be pleasant!
Thou wilt not scorn my humble present,
This fish, the choicest in my basket.1'

And ere the mid-day meal the cook,
With joy and wonder in his look,
Rushed in, and fell before his Master —
"O glorious Victor! matchless King!
Within the fish I found thy ring!
Thou wast not born to know Disaster!"

Hereon uprose the Guest in dread:
"I tarry here too long," he said;
"O prosperous wretch! my friend no more!
The Gods have willed thy swift perdition!
/will not bide the Avenger's mission!"
He spake, and straightway left the shore.