POETRY.
THE RAJAH'S PRIDE. HE who ruled for the English King Summoned the chiefs to his counselling. Princes and governors met at his call, East with the West, in the council hall. Never were ranged in a room before Such wealth of gems as the Rajahs wore ; The smallest stone in the simplest ring Was the ransom price of a captured king.
A prince there was of a petty state, Least of them all where all were great, Lacking, it seemed, in the pride assigned By the gracious gods to the lords of Hind. A ruby chanced from his chain to fall On the paven floor of the council ball. Forgetting his Eastern dignity,
The chief with his henchman bent the knee, And searched for the jewel with nervous dread, While a smile on the English faces spread.
Beside him, impassive, a Rajah stood, His rubies of Burmah red like blood, His emeralds flashing a sea-green fire,1 His pearls surpassing a queen's desire; Yet his rarest jewels less brightly burned Than the flame in his eyes when, fierce, he turned And noted the deed of the native-born And the English lips that curled in scorn. With a sudden movement light as a girl's He snapped a string of his priceless pearls ; Like hail they scattered; his servants came Swift to his aid, but his eyes flashed flame—.
" No !" The word fell like a blade on the air.
"What is found in the dust is the sweeper's share I" WILL H. OeiLviiI.
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