begging is not shameful and asking is godly
i give to beggars and i beg to me
i beg God and i beg myself
and to me abundance is always free
i dont believe in commitment
you are not free because you charge money for what you are
when money is a waterfall on your doorstep
sometimes whats good to you
can horrify me
i give freely
im all that and those that give to me are blessed
poverty and abundance what scares me more
some people blink
some people think their choices are the best and some peoples choices i wouldnt make for money
i live in the prison i saw with the pain sawed in
and i trust who i trust u say yes but you say no
He found a beautiful youth, clad in a deer skin, lying on the ground. (Page 115).
The Beggar King
Proud King Hagag sat on his throne in state, and the high priest, standing by his side, read from the Holy Book, as was his daily custom. He read these words: "For riches are not for ever: and doth the crown endure to every generation?"
"Cease!" cried the king. "Who wrote those words?"
"They are the words of the Holy Book," answered the high priest.
"Give me the book," commanded the king.
With trembling hands the high priest placed it before his majesty. King Hagag gazed earnestly at the words that had been read, and he frowned. Raising his hand, he tore the page from the book and threw it to the ground.
"I, Hagag, am king," he said, "and all such passages that offend me shall be torn out."
He flung the volume angrily from him while the high priest and all his courtiers looked on in astonishment.
"I have heard enough for today," he said. "Too long have I delayed my hunting expedition. Let the horses be got ready."
He descended from the throne, stalked haughtily past the trembling figure of the high priest, and went forth to the hunt. Soon he was riding furiously across an open plain toward a forest where a wild stag had been seen. A trumpet sounded the signal that the deer had been driven from its hiding place, and the king urged his horse forward to be the first in the chase. His majesty's steed was the swiftest in the land. Quickly it carried him out of sight of his nobles and attendants. But the deer was surprisingly fleet and the king could not catch up with it. Coming to a river, the animal plunged in and swam across. Scrambling up the opposite bank its antlers caught in the branch of a tree, and the king, arriving at the river, gave a cry of joy.
"Now I have thee," he said. Springing from his horse and divesting himself of his clothing he swam across with naught but a sword.
As he reached the opposite bank, however, the deer freed itself from the tree and plunged into a thicket. The king, with his sword in his hand, followed quickly, but no deer could he see. Instead,
he found, lying on the ground beyond the thicket, a beautiful youth clad in a deer-skin. He was panting as if after a long run. The king stood still in surprise and the youth sprang to his feet.
"I am the deer," he said. "I am a genii and I have lured thee to this spot, proud king, to teach thee a lesson for thy words this morning."
Before King Hagag could recover from his surprise the youth ran back to the river and swam across. Quickly he dressed himself in the king's clothes and mounted the horse just as the other hunters came up. They thought the genii was King Hagag and they halted before him.
"Let us return," said the genii. "The deer has crossed the river and has escaped."
King Hagag from the thicket on the opposite side watched them ride away and then flung himself on the ground and wept bitterly. There he lay until a wood-cutter found him.
"What do you here?" asked the man.
"I am King Hagag," returned the monarch.
"Thou art a fool," said the wood-cutter. "Thou art a lazy good-for-naught to talk so. Come, carry my bundle of sticks and I will give thee food and an old garment."
In vain the king protested. The wood-cutter
only laughed the more, and at last, losing patience, he beat him and drove him away. Tired and hungry, and clad only in the rags which the wood-cutter had given him, King Hagag reached the palace late at night.
"I am King Hagag," he said to the guards, but roughly they bade him begone, and after spending a wretched night in the streets of the city, his majesty, next morning, was glad to accept some bread and milk offered to him by a poor old woman who took pity on him. He stood at a street corner not knowing what to do. Little children teased him; others took him for a beggar and offered him money. Later in the day he saw the genii ride through the streets on his horse. All the people bowed down before him and cried, "Long live the king!"
"Woe is me," cried Hagag, in his wretchedness. "I am punished for my sin in scoffing at the words of the Holy Book."
He saw that it would be useless for him to go to the palace again, and he went into the fields and tried to earn his bread as a laborer. He was not used to work, however, and but for the kindness of the very poorest he would have died of starvation. He wandered miserably from place to place until he fell in with some blind
beggars who had been deserted by their guide. Joyfully he accepted their offer to take the guide's place.
Months rolled by, and one morning the royal heralds went forth and announced that "Good King Hagag" would give a feast a week from that day to all the beggars in the land.
From far and near came beggars in hundreds, to partake of the king's bounty, and Hagag stood among them, with his blind companions, in the courtyard of the palace waiting for his majesty to appear. He knew the place well, and he hung his head and wept.
"His majesty will speak to each one of you who are his guests today," cried a herald, and one by one they passed into the palace and stood before the throne. When it came to Hagag's turn, he trembled so much that he had to be supported by the guards.
The genii on the throne and Hagag looked long at each other.
"Art thou, too, a beggar?" said the genii.
"Nay, gracious majesty," answered Hagag with bent head. "I have sinned grievously and have been punished. I am but the servant of a troop of blind beggars to whom I act as guide."
The genii king signed to his courtiers that
he desired to be left alone with Hagag. Then he said:
"Hagag, I know thee. I see that thou hast repented. It is well. Now canst thou resume thy rightful place."
"Gracious majesty," said Hagag, "I have learned humility and wisdom. The throne is not for me. The blind beggars need me. Let me remain in their service."
"It cannot be," said the genii. "I see that thou art truly penitent. Thy lesson is learned and my task is done. I will see that the blind beggars lack not."
With his own hands he placed the royal robes on Hagag and himself donned those of the beggar. When the courtiers returned they saw no difference. King Hagag sat on the throne again, and nowhere in the whole world was there a monarch who ruled more wisely or showed more kindness and sympathy to all his subjects.
King Ring and the Stranger
In the kingdom of the north reigned King Ring. Old was he now and white-haired, but noble and brave. At the merry Yuletime he held a great feast in the royal hall. High on the throne of state he sat, and beside him was his fair young queen, the gentle Ingeborg.
Into the spacious hall came a man unknown to any there. A bear-skin covered him from head to foot. He leaned heavily upon a staff, but even then he was taller than any warrior in the hall. He chose for rest a seat upon the bench beside the door. This is now the poor man's place and has always been. Some of the young men laughed at the beggar dressed in the skin of the wild bear and pointed the finger at him.
INTO THE HALL CAME A MAN UNKNOWN TO ANY THERE The stranger's eyes flashed and all felt his anger. Quickly he seized one of the young men by the belt and shook him so that all were suddenly silent in the hall.
"What causes such commotion?" cried the angry monarch. "Who dares disturb our peace? Old man, come here and answer. What is your name, your place, your errand?"
The old man replied: "Many questions you ask, O King, but every one will I answer. My name belongs to me alone and I'll not give it. My birth-place was misfortune and all I possess is want. I have come hither from the wolf so fierce and gaunt. In youth I bestrode a dragon on the blue waters, but now I am old and feeble and must live upon the land. As to my errand, I came to see your wisdom, renowned far and near. When your men met me rudely I seized one of them by the girdle and hurled him to the ground. For that forgive me, though the man is safe and sound."
"Your words are wisely chosen," said King Ring. "The aged should be honoured; come, sit here by me. You are no beggar, I know. Throw off your disguise and appear in your true form. Disguise is a foe to pleasure, and pleasure should rule at Yule-tide."
Then the guest dropped the bear-skin. Instead of an old man bent with care, there stood a handsome youth with long golden locks. His mantle was of azure velvet and his girdle was of silver finely worked. Around his arm clung a heavy golden circlet and at his side gleamed the great battle-sword.
When the queen looked at the guest she knew him as Frithiof, but mentioned not his name. It was the right of a guest to claim hospitality without giving his name, and Frithiof had claimed this guest-right. The horn sounded a shrill blast in the hall and all was still. The hour for vows was coming and the boar was now brought in. His four knees were bent beneath him on the great silver dish; in his mouth was an apple, and there were wreaths about his neck.
King Ring, his grey locks flowing, arose and straightway now
The boar's head gently touching, he thus declared his vow:
"I swear to conquer Frithiof, the champion in war,
So help me, Frey and Odin, and likewise mighty Thor."
Then with a smile defiant uprose the stranger tall
A look of wrath heroic spread o'er his features all—
He smote with sword the table till through the hall it rang
And up from oaken benches the steel-clad warriors sprang.
"And now, Sir King, please listen while I my vow shall tell—
Young Frithiof is my kinsman, and so I know him well;
'Gainst all the world I'll shield him, I give you here in word,
So help me now my norn, and likewise my good sword!"
The king laughed at this bold defiance. "Right daring, methinks your speech," he said, "but in the Northland palace all fair words are free." Then turning to the queen he bade her fill a horn of wine, the very best. "I hope that he'll remain our guest through the winter," he concluded.
The queen then took the great goblet and filled it with wine. With trembling hand she gave it to the guest. He accepted the horn with a bow of reverence and drank the wine at a draught in honour of the fair queen who gave it.
Then the skald, the singer of the royal court, touched the strings of his harp and sang a song of love and glory. As he sang he moved the warriors' hearts to pity or roused them to anger and revenge at his will. Such is the wonderful power of music and poetry. He sang of the home in Valhal, where brave heroes go after death, and all hearts were filled with a desire to be brave and noble that they might deserve a place in heaven when their work on earth was finished.
So with mirth and song, with stories of the great heroes of their race, King Ring and his court kept the merry Yule-tide in his castle.
LONDON: GEORGE G. HARRAP & CO. LTD.
2 & 3 Portsmouth St. Kingsway WC
AND AT CALCUTTA AND SYDNEY
First published January 1909
by GEORGE G. HARRAP & Co.
2 & 3 Portsmouth Street, Kingsway, London, W.C.2
Reprinted: April 1911; May 1913;
May 1914; October 1919; July 1922
THE STORY OF FRITHIOF
King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid
By Don Marquis, in "Sonnets to a
red-Haired Lady and Famous Love
Cophetua was a merry King,
And slightly sentimental;
His morals were (if anything)
What some call "Oriental."
Zenelophon, the Beggar Goil,
Was innocent and careful;
She had been reared to Honest Toil
By parents poor and prayerful,
For Papa peddled lemonade
While Mamma laundered laundry,
And she had been a solder maid
Within a muzzle foundry;
But, oh! the foreman of the staff
Had tried to Make Advances . . .
The Villain used to smirk and chaff
And ask her out to dances! . . .
And so she quit the Hellish Place
And went salvationarming,
A careful smile upon her face
So innocent and charming.
While begging in a Beer Saloon
Right opposite the palace
She saw the King one afternoon
Drink chalice after chalice --
(He dallied daily with the Jug,
He hit the pipe and gambled
He introduced the bunny-hug
As round his realm he rambled) --
Eftsoons the Monarch, reeling by
Remarked, iniquitous and sly,
"Pray, buss me, Beggar Maiden!"
Not I! " she cried, " I'd rather go
Right back to making muzzles
Than kiss a King that roisters so
And gambles, flirts and guzzles!"
The Regal Cut-up, in a mood
Then offered her a samite snood,
A duchy and a necklace.
"Oh, keep your Royal Gauds," she said,
"And buss your legal spouses!
I won't kiss none until I'm wed,
Especial if they're souses!"
With that he laid his sceptre down
Beneath her footsy-wootsies --
"Oh, wed me, and I'll fling muh crown
Before them pretty tootsies!"
"Oh King!" says she, "you have some queens!"
Says he, "They're soon beheaded!"
That day his headsman reaped their beans,
The next the King was wedded.
And Mrs. King Cophetua made
All parties quit their vices,
And Papa's private lemonade
Soon rose to fancy prices,
And Mamma laundered for the King
As happy as a linnet --
Virtue always wins, I sing,
If Wisdom's mingled in it!
Edward Burne-Jones and Alfred, Lord Tennyson
The Beggar Maid
[Written 1833, published 1842. Page created for English 465 by Rose Bartlett and Glenn Everett. Note: this painting by Edward Burne-Jones was inspired by Tennyson's poem.]
Her arms across her breast she laid;
She was more fair than words can say:
Bare-footed came the beggar maid
Before the king Cophetua.
In robe and crown the king stept down,
To meet and greet her on her way;
'It is no wonder,' said the lords,
'She is more beautiful than day.'
As shines the moon in clouded skies,
She in her poor attire was seen:
One praised her ancles, one her eyes,
One her dark hair and lovesome mien.
So sweet a face, such angel grace,
In all that land had never been:
Cophetua sware a royal oath:
'This beggar maid shall be my queen!'
The Hemis Guru-Setchu
The Cham Mystery Dances
in Honor of Guru Padmasambhava