--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Saxe, John G. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 17 number: 5 published: 1914-03 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'John G. Saxe, "Solomon and the Bees. A Poem," *Improvement Era* 17, no. 5 (March 1914): 427–428.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1705unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1705unse start_page: 427 end_page: 428 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1914-03) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1705unse publication_year: 1914 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1914, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Solomon and the Bees. A Poem VOICE OF THE INTANGIBLE 427 "It tells me of the big men who looked and listened; they talked with the wind ; they rode upon it into the black clouds. It tells me their eyes are like the sun, — their songs like thunder before a shower. It tells me they sit down in great peace beyond the sunset. It says much. I can tell but little." When they came out of the hogon, the sun hung low over the ragged horizon. Jimmy and his wife stood side by side, looking at or worshiping the long bars of red and gold, beyond the dazzling glory of which, their ideals of perfection sat enthroned in majesty and power. "Nizzadi! Nizzadi!" (Distant! Distant!) breathed the medicine-man, motioning with his powerful arm towards the enchanted west; and he turned his big black eyes on Ben, to express in the eloquence of silence, the great God-feeling which defied his tongue. Young Rojer met the gaze with one Navajo word meaning, "I know it," or, "I understand it." This unique brotherhood tolerated moderate speech at certain times, but at other times it called for stern silence. The parting in the sunset was one of those other times. After shaking hands with Brother and Sister Baneehlizhen, Ben mounted Flossy and turned towards the nearest ford ; and while ths water protested petulantly against each hoof thrust into its even current, the words came up from the stream or the cotton - woods on the bank into Ben's recollection: "Lo. the poor Indian, whose untutored mind Sees' God in clouds, or hears him in the wind." (to be continued) Solomon and the Bees BY JOHN G. SAXE [John G ?axe, American poet and humorist, was born in Highgate. Vt., in 1816, ard died at Mbanv N. Y., in 1887. His literary reputation rests chiefly on his short noems of which the following is a typical example. These productions are characterized hv a light humor, and, at the same time, by the valuable mora,, or historical lessons they convey. According to good authorities, as a humorist, Saxe ranks next to Lowell and Holmes.] When Solomon was reigning in his glory. Unto his throne the Queen of Sheba came, (So in the Talmud you may read the story.) Drawn by the magic of the monarch's fame, To see the splendor of his court, and bring Some fitting tribute to the mighty king. 428 IMPROVEMENT ERA Nor this alone: much had her highness heard What flowers of learning graced the royal speech; What gems of wisdom dropped with every word; What wholesome lessons he was wont to teach In pleasing proverbs; and she wished, in sooth, To know if Rumor spoke the simple truth. And straight she held before the monarch's view, In either hand, a radiant wreath of flowers; The one, bedecked with every charming hue, Was newly culled from Nature's choicest bowers; The other, no less fair in every part, Was the rare product of divinest Art. "Which is the true, and which the false?" she said. Great Solomon was silent. All amazed, Each wondering courtier shook his puzzled head, While at the garlands long the monarch gazed,' As one who sees a miracle, and fain, For very rapture, ne'er would speak again. "Which is the true?" once more the woman asked, Pleased at the fond amazement of the king; "So wise a head should not be hardly tasked," Most learned liege, with such a trivial thing." But still the sage was silent, — it was plain A deepening doubt perplexed the royal brain. While thus he pondered, presently he sees, Hard by the casement, — so the story goes, — A little band of busy, bustling bees, Hunting for honey in a withered rose. The monarch smiled, and raised his royal head: "Open the window!"— that was all he said. The window opened at the king's command; Within the room the eager insects flew, And sought the flowers in Sheba's dexter hand! And so the king and all the courtiers knew That wreath was Nature's; and the baffled queen Returned to tell the wonders she had seen. My story teaches (every tale should bear A fitting moral) that the wise may find In trifles light as atoms in the air Some useful lesson to enrich the mind, Some truth designed to profit or to please, As Israel's king learned wisdom from the' bees.