So Dara shepherded a province wide, Nor in his viceroy’s sceptre took more pride Than in his crook before; but Envy finds More soil in cities than on mountains bare, And the frank sun of spirits clear and rare Breeds poisonous fogs in low and marish minds. Soon it was whispered at the royal ear That, though wise Dara’s province, year by year, Like a great spunge, drew wealth and plenty up, Yet, when he squeezed it at the king’s behest, Some golden drops, more rich than all the rest, Went to the filling of his private cup. For proof, they said that wheresoe’er he went A chest, beneath whose weight the camel bent, Went guarded, and no other eye had seen What was therein, save only Dara’s own, Yet, when ’twas opened, all his tent was known To glow and lighten with heapt jewels’ sheen. The king set forth for Dara’s province straight, Where, as was fit, outside his city’s gate The viceroy met him with a stately train; And there, with archers circled, close at hand, A camel with the chest was seen to stand; The king grew red, for thus the guilt was plain. “Open me now,” he cried, “you treasure-chest!” ’Twas done, and only a worn shepherd’s vest Was found within; some blushed and hung the head, Not Dara; open as the sky’s blue roof He stood, and “O, my lord, behold the proof That I was worthy of my trust!” he said. “For ruling men, lo! all the charm I had; My soul, in those coarse vestments ever clad, Still to the unstained past kept true and leal, Still on these plains could breathe her mountain air, And Fortune’s heaviest gifts serenely bear, Which bend men from the truth, and make them reel. “To govern wisely I had shown small skill Were I not lord of simple Dara still; That sceptre kept, I cannot lose my way!” Strange dew in royal eyes grew round and bright, And thrilled the trembling lids; before ’twas night Two added provinces blessed Dara’s sway. * * * * * A LEGEND OF TYROL. BY JAMES T. FIELDS. In a green sheltered nook, where a mountain Stood guarding the peace-haunted ground, Lived a maiden whose smile was the sunlight That gladdened the hill-sides around. Her voice seemed a musical echo, Whose notes wandered down from above, And wherever she walked in her beauty Sprang blossoms of joy and of love.