A famous king would build a church,
A temple vast and grand;
And that the praise might be his own,
He gave a strict command
That none should add the smallest gift
To aid the work he planned.
And when the mighty dome was done,
Within the noble frame,
Upon a tablet broad and fair,
In letters all aflame
With burnished gold, the people read
The royal builder's name.
Now when the king, elate with pride,
That night had sought his bed,
He dreamed he saw an angel come
(A halo round his head),
Erase the royal name and write
Another in its stead.
What could it be? Three times that night
That wondrous vision came;
Three times he saw that angel hand
Erase the royal name,
And write a woman's in its stead
In letters all aflame.
Whose could it be? He gave command
To all about his throne
To seek the owner of the name
That on the tablet shone;
And so it was, the courtiers found
A widow poor and lone.
The king, enraged at what he heard,
Cried, "Bring the culprit here!"
And to the woman trembling sore,
He said, "'Tis very clear
That thou hast broken my command:
Now let the truth appear!"
"Your majesty," the widow said,
"I can't deny the truth;
I love the Lord--my Lord and yours--
And so in simple sooth,
I broke your Majesty's command
(I crave your royal ruth).
"And since I had no money, Sire,
Why, I could only pray
That God would bless your Majesty;'
And when along the way
The horses drew the stones, I gave
To one a wisp of hay!"
"Ah! now I see," the king exclaimed,
"Self-glory was my aim:
The woman gave for love of God,
And not for worldly fame--
'Tis my command the tablet bear
The pious widow's name!"