Tact

[Phoxtane]

This is a poem I\'m analyzing for my American Literature class. It was written by Arthur Guiterman.

TACT

The Sultan was vexed by a dream

That had troubled his slumbers;

For, feasting on lobsters and cream

With half-ripened cucumbers

And lying with head to the South

Gives the Night Mare full power:

He dreamed that the teeth of his mouth

Tumbled out in a shower!

So, calling a sayer of sooth

To interperet the vision,

He charged him to utter the truth

With unflinching precision.

'Oh, Fountain of Justice and fear

of the infidel foemen,

The vision,' expounded the seer,

'Is of dolorous omen;

For Allah who governs this ball,-

May his favor restore you!-

Decrees that your relatives all

Shall drop dead right before you!'

The Sultan lept up in a fit

Of devouring fury.

He stayed not to issue a writ

Or impanel a jury,

But, 'Shorten this fellow!' he said,

'And be rapid about it!'

So off went the soothsayer\'s head;

He was wiser without it.

One sage in the discard, they sent

To the mosque for another,

An augur of wilier bent

Than his innocent brother.

'Now Allah be honored and praised!'

Cried this shrewdest of mages,

'And high let your banner be raised,

For the vision presages

That long shall your Majesty thrive

Like the fertile plantations;

So long that my Lord shall survive

E\'en his youngest relations!

The gratified Sultan expressed

His delight beyond measure;

The prophet went home with a chest

Overflowing with treasure.

Which proves,- \'tis a principle still,

Let the blunt-spoken weigh it,-

A person may say what he will

If he knows how to say it.

If you\'re looking for the print version, I know it was included in a publication called 'The Laughing Muse'.