THE TWO GRAVES; A GERMAN LEGEND by JOHN GODFREY SAXE

A MAN who long had tried in vain
The doctor's skill to ease the pain
That racked his limbs, until his gout
Scarce suffered him to crawl about,
Though much inclining to despair,
Gave ear to all who spoke him fair,
And told of means that might insure
The end he sought, -- relief or cure.
Among a crowd of such, there came,
To proffer help, an ancient dame,
Who, having heard with solemn face
The nature of the patient's case,
Advised him thus: "At early light,
While yet the grass is damp with night,
Go sit upon a good man's grave,
And in the dews upon it lave
Your aching limbs; repeat it thrice;
My word, 't will cure you in a trice.
Next morning at the dawn of day
The cripple takes his weary way
Unto the churchyard; where, upon
A monument of polished stone,
He reads with joy: "Here lies a man
Whose living virtues far outran
All words of praise, -- a model he
Of Justice, Goodness, Charity."
Enough! the patient takes his seat
And in the moisture bathes his feet
And aching joints; but, sooth to say,
It did not drive his gout away,
Though thrice repeated; nay, he swore
The pain was greater than before.
What next? Near by, a hillock lies
Of grass-grown earth; and so he tries
The dame's prescription once again;
And lo! swift flies the patient's pain;
He drops his staff, and, strange to tell,
His gout is gone, -- the man is well!
With grateful heart and beaming face
He turns the sleeper's name to trace;
But no; a slab is there alone,
With not a word upon the stone.

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