I said to the Caliph, "Thou art old,
Thou hast no need of so much gold;
Thou should`st not have heaped and hidden it here,
Till the breath of battle was hot and near,
But have sown through the land these useless hoards,
To spring into shining blades of swords,
And keep thine honour sweet and clear".
Then into his dungeon I locked the drone
And left him there to feed all alone,
In the honey cells of his golden hive;
Never a prayer, nor a cry, nor a groan,
Was heard from those massive walls of stone,
Nor again was the Caliph seen alive

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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