[Written for the Sentinel]


Yussuf Ben Orem sat one dayWithin the gate where trade held sway,And one, a merchant, came to himAnd spake: "O Master, day grows dim;Withdraw, I pray, with me apart,Far from the buzz of babbling mart,Where I may speak and thou may'st hearWords only meant for thine own ear."

Yussuf Ben Orem led the wayUnto his house without delay."Here, friend, thou mayest speak, nor fearAnother than myself may hear.Be seated, then, if that thou please,And speak thy message at thine ease,And for thy comfort here is wine.Break silence, then; my ear is thine."

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