King Solomon And The Ants

Out from Jerusalem     The king rode with his great     War chiefs and lords of state,     And Sheba's queen with them;     Comely, but black withal,     To whom, perchance, belongs     That wondrous Song of songs,     Sensuous and mystical,     Whereto devout souls turn     In fond, ecstatic dream,     And through its earth-born theme     The Love of loves discern.     Proud in the Syrian sun,     In gold and purple sheen,     The dusky Ethiop queen     Smiled on King Solomon.     Wisest of men, he knew     The languages of all     The creatures great or small     That trod the earth or flew.     Across an ant-hill led     The king's path, and he heard     Its small folk, and their word     He thus interpreted:     "Here comes the king men greet     As wise and good and just,     To crush us in the dust     Under his heedless feet."     The great king bowed his head,     And saw the wide surprise     Of the Queen of Sheba's eyes     As he told her what they said.     "O king!" she whispered sweet,     "Too happy fate have they     Who perish in thy way     Beneath thy gracious feet!     "Thou of the God-lent crown,     Shall these vile creatures dare     Murmur against thee where     The knees of kings kneel down?"     "Nay," Solomon replied,     "The wise and strong should seek     The welfare of the weak,"     And turned his horse aside.     His train, with quick alarm,     Curved with their leader round     The ant-hill's peopled mound,     And left it free from harm.     The jewelled head bent low;     "O king!" she said, "henceforth     The secret of thy worth     And wisdom well I know.     "Happy must be the State     Whose ruler heedeth more     The murmurs of the poor     Than flatteries of the great.