Tilton Once in Persia reigned a king, Who upon his signet ring Graved a maxim true and wise, Which, if held before his eyes, Gave him counsel at a glance Fit for every change and chance. Solemn words, and these are they, "Even this shall pa** away." Trains of camels through the sand Brought him gems from Samarcand; Fleets of galleys through the seas Brought him pearls to match with these; But he counted not his gain Treasures of the mine or main; "What is wealth?" the king would say; "Even this shall pa** away." 'Mid the revels of his court, At the zenith of his sport, When the palms of all his guests Burned with clapping at his jests, He, amid his figs and wine, Cried, "O loving friends of mine; Pleasures come, but not to stay, 'Even this shall pa** away." Lady, fairest ever seen, Was the bride he crowned his queen. Pillowed on his marriage bed, Softly to his soul he said: "Though no bridegroom ever pressed Fairer bosom to his breast, Mortal flesh must come to clay Even this shall pa** away." Fighting on a furious field, Once a javelin pierced his shield; Soldiers, with a loud lament, Bore him bleeding to his tent. Groaning from his tortured side, "Pain is hard to bear," he cried; "But with patience, day by day, Even this shall pa** away." Towering in the public square, Twenty cubits in the air, Rose his statue, carved in stone. Then the king, disguised, unknown, Stood before his sculptured name, Musing meekly: "What is fame? Fame is but a slow decay, Even this shall pa** away." Struck with palsy, sore and old, Waiting at the Gates of Gold, Said he with his dying breath, "Life is done, but what is d**h?" Then, in answer to the king, Fell a sunbeam on his ring, Showing by a heavenly ray, "Even this shall pa** away."