Page:Poems, Emerson, 1847.djvu/210

198 Many may come,

But one shall sing;

Two touch the string,

The harp is dumb.

Though there come a million,

Wise Saadi dwells alone.

Yet Saadi loved the race of men,—

No churl, immured in cave or den;

In bower and hall

He wants them all,

Nor can dispense

With Persia for his audience;

They must give ear,

Grow red with joy and white with fear;

But he has no companion;

Come ten, or come a million,

Good Saadi dwells alone.

Be thou ware where Saadi dwells;

Wisdom of the gods is he,—

Entertain it reverently.