Who should their teacher be? A man Among the flatterers in the court Was found, well-suited to the plan The tyrant had devised. Report Gave him a wisdom owned by few, And certainly to trim his sail, And veer his bark, none better knew, Before a changing adverse gale.
And Sonda Marco,--such his name,-- Took home the four fair boys to teach All knowledge that their years became, Science, and war, and modes of speech, But he was told, if death he feared, Never to tell them of the soul, Of vows, and prayers, and rites revered, And of the gods who all control.
The sciences the boys were taught They mastered with a quickness strange, But Prehlad was the one for thought, He soared above the lesson's range. One day the tutor unseen heard The boy discuss forbidden themes, As if his inmost heart were stirred, And he of truth from heaven had gleams.
"O Prince, what mean'st thou?" In his fright The teacher thus in private said-- "Talk on such subjects is not right, Wouldst thou bring ruin on my head? There are no gods except the king, The ruler of the world is he! Look up to him, and do not bring Destruction by a speech too free.
"Be wary for thy own sake, child, If he should hear thee talking so, Thou shalt for ever be exiled, And I shall die, full well I know. Worthy of worship, honour, praise, Is thy great father. Things unseen, What _are_ they?--Themes of poets' lays! They _are_ not and have never been."
Smiling, the boy, with folded hands, As sign of a submission meek, Answered his tutor. "Thy commands Are ever precious. Do not seek To lay upon me what I feel Would be unrighteous. Let me hear Those inner voices that reveal Long vistas in another sphere.
"The gods that rule the earth and sea, Shall I abjure them and adore A man? It may not, may not be; Though I should lie in pools of gore My conscience I would hurt no more; But I shall follow what my heart Tells me is right, so I implore My purpose fixed no longer thwart.
"The coward calls black white, white black, At bidding, or in fear of death; Such suppleness, thank God, I lack, To die is but to lose my breath. Is death annihilation? No. New worlds will open on my view, When persecuted hence I go, The right is right,--the true is true."