TWO PROBLEMS.

Vienna gained, I gave myself to books.

Here I had promised Veera I should be.

New paths were opened to me, and my days

Were lost in study. All my tutor knew

Seemed cramped and meagre in these wider ways

Of thought and science. Better far, I said,

To know, than be a king. There is no crown

That so becomes the brow as knowledge does.

To solve two problems, now engrossed my life.

My Bedouin tutor had spent all his days

Upon them, but without success. On me

He grafted all the purpose of his soul,

Determined, though he failed, that I might yet

Toil on when he was compassed round by death.

These sister problems were, How make pure gold?

And, How endure forever on the earth?