Classic Poem

He gave to the King the paper, and the King read written thereon:
" From the toilsomeness of the way,
My soul fainted within me from terror,
For I seemed to be treading the road to Hell.
The path was contracted to a hair's-breadth,
And whoever trod it washed his hands of life.
For in this path, which was slender as a hair,
There appeared no means of again coming down.
When I arrived at the rocky mound of the summit,
I was in an utter strait from the straitness of the way.
All that I beheld on the side which I had seen tore my heart to pieces,
And my judgment was annihilated by its perilous aspect.
But on the other side the way was without a blemish,
Delight upon delight, garden upon garden,
Full of fruit, and verdure, and water, and roses;
The whole region resounding with the melody of birds,
The air soft, and the landscape so charming,
That you might say, God had granted its every wish.
On this side all was life and beauty,
On the other side all was disturbance and ruin;
Here was Paradise, there the semblance of Hell —
Who would come to Hell and desert Paradise?
Think of that desert through which we wended,
Look whence we came, and at what we have arrived!
Who would have the heart from this lovely spot
Again to set a foot in that intricate track?
Here I remain, King, and bid thee adieu;
And mayst thou be happy as I am happy! "