Page:The Luzumiyat of Abu'l-Ala.djvu/101



Yea, kiss the rosy cheeks of new-born Day, And hail eternity in every ray
 * Forming a halo round its infant head.

Illumining thy labyrinthine way.

But I, the thrice-imprisoned, try to troll Strains of the song of night, which fill with dole
 * My blindness, my confinement, and my flesh—

The sordid habitation of my soul.

Howbeit, my inner vision heir shall be To the increasing flames of mystery
 * Which may illumine yet my prisons all,

And crown the ever living hope of me.