Page:The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East, Volume 08.djvu/79



O Thou! who know'st the secret thoughts of all,

In time of sorest need who aidest all,

Grant me repentance, and accept my plea,

O Thou who dost accept the pleas of all!

I saw a bird perched on the walls of Tus,

Before him lay the skull of Kai Kawus,

And thus he made his moan, "Alas, poor king!

Thy drums are hushed, thy 'larums have rung truce. "

Ask not the chances of the time to be,

And for the past, 'tis vanished, as you see;

This ready-money breath set down as gain,

Future and past concern not you or me.

What launched that golden orb his course to run,

What wrecks his firm foundations, when 'tis done,

No man of science ever weighed with scales,

Nor made assay with touchstone, no, not one!

I pray thee to my counsel lend thine ear,

Cast off this false hypocrisy's veneer;

This life a moment is, the next all time;

Sell not eternity for earthly gear!

Ofttimes I plead my foolishness to Thee,

My heart contracted with perplexity;

I gird me with the Magian zone, and why?

For shame so poor a Mussulman to be.