A TALE OF THREE MESSENGERS

 

                     I

 

A man awoke one day to find

That he had passed away in sleep

And stood within a court confined,

To answer for himself and weep.

 

“Now did you notice, my good sir,”

The Lord of Death breathed in his ear,

“The first of the Three Messengers

Who in each life to men appear?”

 

“Nay, Lord, I saw this person not,”

Replied the one who was deceased,

Confounded by his wrong conduct

Of thoughts and words and deeds.

 

“But saw you not, my good man,

An aged and a trembling wretch,

Bent over like a bridge’s span

And leaning on a gnarled staff—

 

“All youth and vigor drained and dimmed,

Teeth broken, gray or scanty hair,

Flesh wrinkled, blotched, with crippled limbs?”

“At this, Lord, I have stopped to stare.”

 

“And did it not occur to you,

Who should be wise enough to see,

‘I, too, am subject to old age,

So let me now do noble deeds’?”

 

“Such deeds, Lord, I have left aside,

In ignorance and negligence

Of my own body, speech, and mind.”

“As you have said, my savvy friend:

 

“And as befits your chosen path,

So will your compensation suit.

For knew you not those deeds would last

Until you had endured their fruits?”

 

 

 

                    II

 

“But saw you not, my good sir,”

The Lord of Death continued then,

“The second Divine Messenger

Who passes through the world of men?”

 

“Nay, Lord, I fear I saw him not,”

Replied the one who was deceased,

Confounded by his wrong conduct

Of thoughts and words and deeds.

 

“But saw you not, my good man,

A person who was sick with pain—

Who, lying on his cold bed pan,

Consumed with fever, strained,

 

“And then must needs be lifted up

While someone tended to his sores

And helped him hold his drinking cup?”

“Yea, I have seen this thing, my Lord.”

 

“And was it not grasped by your wit,

Which should be wise enough to see:

‘I, too, am subject to be sick,

So let me now do noble deeds’?”

 

“Lord, I have left such deeds aside,

In ignorance and negligence

Of my own body, speech, and mind.”

“As you have said, my savvy friend:

 

“And as befits your chosen path,

So will your compensation suit.

For knew you not those deeds would last

Until you had endured their fruits?

 

                    III

 

“But saw you not, my good sir,”

The Lord of Death continued then,

“The last of the Three Messengers

Who pass through this vain world of men?”

 

“Nay, Lord, I fear I saw him not,”

Replied the one who was deceased,

Confounded by his wrong conduct

Of thoughts and words and deeds.

 

“But saw you not, my good man,

The corpse of one who lately died:

His body swollen, pus filled, wan,

And covered with a swarm of flies—

 

“His mourners weeping at the call

Of grief, beside the funeral board—

Or none to mourn his death at all?”

“Yea, I have seen this thing, my Lord.”

 

“And did it not dawn in your mind,

Which should be wise enough to see:

‘I, too, shall one day have to die,

So let me now do noble deeds.’?”

 

“Such deeds, Lord, I have left aside,

In ignorance and negligence

Of my own body, speech, and mind.”

“As you have said, my savvy friend:

 

“And as befits your chosen path

So will your compensation suit.

For knew you not those deeds would last

Until you had endured their fruits?

 

Then after he examined him

Concerning this third messenger,

Death’s monarch said no more, but sent

For dogs of Hell that seized and tore

 

The lost soul with their claws and teeth—

Though not allowing him to die

Until they purged his evil deeds.

Shall this fate, then, be yours and mine?