A Poem by Theodre Tilton - This too shall pass away

Read this poem sometime back....touched me deeply...and holds true for all of us in all times....good or bad.... read the poem with the story of the king to get the context of it.......:)

This too shall pass......

One morning, the boy Solomon saw the goldsmith who works for King David's Palace walk out of the palace very desperate and sad. Salomon asked the goldsmith with curiosity, what makes you feel so sad and desperate? The goldsmith answered, I have to provide a solution to the King within seven days. If not I will be taken out of my job. I am really confused because there is no solution for what the King has asked.

What is the solution that the King is looking for? Solomon was curious. The goldsmith presented the demand of the King to Solomon as follows: I need to make a gold ring for the king with an inscription on it which should help the king not to be very happy and forget the divine truth at his happy moments. At the same time the inscriptions on it should help him not to lose his heart when he is facing failures and desperations. Immediately Solomon gave what he needs to inscribe on it:

He said write as follows "This too shall pass."


This Too Shall Pass Away

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 pass 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 mine or main;
"What is wealth?" the king would say;
"Even this shall pass 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 pass 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 passed;
Fairer bosom to his breast,
Mortal flesh must come to clay-
"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, sore 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 sun beam on his ring,
"Even this shall pass away."