But the Prophet, never rising,
Said, "Be calm! this row's surprising!"
And as each Saint sank unsinew'd
In his arm-chair he continued:
"Goodman Jones, your cheeks are yellow,
Tell thy tale, and do not bellow!
What's the reason of your crying—
Is our brother dead!—or dying?"
As the Prophet spake, supremely
Hushing all the strife unseemly,