First spoke The Shah;—"Salámán, Oh my Soul, Oh Taper of the Banquet of my House, Light of the Eyes of my Prosperity, And making bloom the Court of Hope with Rose; Years Rose-bud-like my own Blood I devour'd Till in my hand I carried thee, my Rose; Oh do not tear my Garment from my Hand, Nor wound thy Father with a Dagger Thorn. Years for thy sake the Crown has worn my Brow, And Years my Foot been growing to the Throne Only for Thee—Oh spurn them not with Thine; Oh turn thy Face from Dalliance unwise, Lay not thy Heart's hand on a Minion! For what thy Proper Pastime? Is it not To mount and manage Rakhsh along the Field; Not, with no stouter weapon than a Love-lock, Idly reclining on a Silver Breast. Go, fly thine Arrow at the Antelope And Lion—let not me my Lion see Slain by the Arrow eyes of a Ghazál. Go, flash thy Steel among the Ranks of Men, And smite the Warriors' Necks; not, flying them, Lay down thine own beneath a Woman's Foot, Leave off such doing in the Name of God, Nor bring thy Father weeping to the Ground; Years have I held myself aloft, and all For Thee—Oh Shame if thou prepare my Fall!" When before Shirúeh's Feet Drencht in Blood fell Kai Khusrau, He declared this Parable— "Wretch!—There was a Branch that, waxing Wanton o'er the Root he drank from, At a Draught the Living Water Drain'd wherewith Himself to crown! Died the Root—and with it died The Branch—and barren was brought down!" XV. Salámán heard—the Sea of his Soul was mov'd, And bubbled up with Jewels, and he said; "Oh Shah, I am the Slave of thy Desire, Dust of thy Throne ascending Foot am I; Whatever thou Desirest I would do, But sicken of my own Incompetence; Not in the Hand of my infirmer Will To carry into Deed mine own Desire. Time upon Time I torture mine own Soul, Devising liberation from the Snare I languish in. But when upon that Moon I _think_, my Soul relapses—and when _look_— I leave both Worlds behind to follow her!" XVI.