The Caravan

Blest was the lot of the caravan
Prom which, when he thirsted at eve, a man
From that well in the desert his bucket drew,
And brought unburied the moon to view ;
Which three days in the depth had been forced to dwell
Like the moon of Nakhshab in Hakhshab’s well.
On the fourth bright mom when the Yusuf of day
Arose from the gulf where entombed he lay,
There came by good fortune a caravan,
Passing to Egypt from Midian.
By the weary length of the way distressed
They halted there and unloaded to rest.
High fate was theirs to have wandered far
And found Yusuf himself for a guiding star.
The weary merchants halted, and first
To the well they hastened to quench their thirst.
Happy was be who most speedily pressed
To that Water of Life and outstripped the rest,
And, a second Khizar of high renown,
Sent through the darkness his bucket down.
Then Gabriel called to Yusuf, “Shed
The water of grace on the world,” he said.
“ Take thy seat in the bucket a brighter sun,
And from west to east in thy swift course run.
Thine horizon shall be the well’s circular brim,
And shall ne’er, while thou shine, st, he dark or dim.
Send forth a beam from thy face, and through
The whole wide world light shall shine anew.”
Then Yusuf sprang from the stone, and fleet
As water took in the bucket his seat.
A strong man drew it, one skilled to say
What the water he drew from a well should weigh.
“ What may there be in the bucket beside
The water that makes it so heavy ? ” he cried.
When that moon appeared, from his happy soul
Burst a cry of rapture beyond control :
“ O joy, that so lovely a moon to illume
The world should arise from the depth of gloom,
And out of the bitterest spring a stream
Of light and glory should suddenly gleam ! ”
So for him grew a rose in that desolate spot ;
But he to his fellows revealed it not.
To the place where he rested the youth he hare,
And gave him in charge to his people there.
Unworthy his lot is the man, unwise,
Who hides not his treasure from envious eyes.
But the brothers had lingered not far from the well,
And they burned in their hearts to know what befell ;
They saw the merchants arrive and stood
Waiting for news in the neighbourhood.
To Yusuf they called with a secret cry,
But a hollow echo came back in reply.
To the caravan with quick steps, intent
On claiming the boy as their slave, they went,
And with toil and labour they made their way
Within the ring where the merchants lay.
“ This is our slave,” as they touched him, they cried ;
“ The collar of service his hand has untied.
The bonds of his duty were loosened, and he
From the yoke of his masters has dared to flee.
Though born in our house we will gladly sell
The idle boy who will never do well.
When a slave is negligent, idle, perverse,
Ever growing from bad to worse,
’Tis better to sell him, though small the price,
Than suffer still from his rooted vice.
We will labour no more to improve the wretch,
But sell him at once for the price he may fetch.”
He was sold for a trifle to him whose cord
Had brought him up to the light restored.
Malik — so named was the merchant — gave
A few pieces for Yusuf as household slave.
Then the traders arising their march renewed,
And onward to Egypt their way pursued.
Woe unto those who that treasure sold,
And bartered their souls for some paltry gold !
No life, nor the treasures of Egypt, could buy
One word from his lip or one glance from his eye.
Only Jacob his sire and Zulaikha, the true,
The priceless worth of that treasure knew,
But his worth was unknown to those blinded eyes,
jjid they took a few pence for the blessed prize.