Memories…

Hello everyone!!!

For the past couple of months I have been having mysterious pains in my abdomen and we haven’t been able to find out what is causing them.  The other day when the pain was really bad I was reminded of a poem that I read when I was very young.  I couldn’t remember much but I did remember a stanza where a king was in great pain from a battle wound and he said “even this shall pass away”.  That stuck with me.  No matter what the king was going through, great or small, he would always say, “even this shall pass away”.  This afternoon I went to find that poem because again my pain has been very bad and I wanted to read it.  Now, I want to share it with you.  Enjoy!

Even This Shall Pass Away

Once in Persia reigned a King

Who upon his signet ring

Graved a maxim true and wise,

 Which, if held before the eyes

Gave him counsel at a glance,

Fit for every change and chance.

Solemn words, and these are they:

“Even this shall pass away.”

 

Trains of camels through the sand

Brought his 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 of main;

“What is wealth?” the king would say;

“Even this shall pass away.”

 

In the revels of his court

At the zenith of the sport,

When the palms of all his guests

Burned with clapping at his jests;

He amid his figs and wine,

Cried: “Oh loving friends of mine!

Pleasure comes but not to stay;

Even this shall pass 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 pass 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 pass away.”

 

Struck with palsy, sere and old,

Waiting at the gates of gold,

Said he with his dying breath;

“Life is done, but what is death?”

Then, in answer to the King,

Fell a sunbeam on his ring,

Showing by a heavenly ray,

“Even this shall pass away.”

–Theodore Tilton