Zohair the poet sang of loveliness Which is the flight of things. Oh, meditate Upon the sorrows of our earthly state, For what is lovely we may not possess. XCVIII Heigho! the splendid air is full of wings, And they will take us to the--friend, be wise For if you navigate among the skies You too may reach the subterranean kings. XCIX Now fear the rose! You travel to the gloom Of which the roses sing and sing so fair, And, but for them, you'd have a certain share In life: your name be read upon the tomb. C There is a tower of silence, and the bell Moves up--another man is made to be. For certain years they move in company, But you, when fails your song do fail as well. CI No sword will summon Death, and he will stay For neither helm nor shield his falling rod. We are the crooked alphabet of God, And He will read us ere he wipes away. CII How strange that we, perambulating dust, Should be the vessels of eternal fire, That such unfading passion of desire Should be within our fading bodies thrust. CIII _Deep in a silent chamber of the rose There was a fattened worm. He looked around, Espied a relative and spoke at him: It seems to me this world is very good_. CIV _A most unlovely world, said brother worm, For all of us are piteous prisoners. And if, declared the first, your thought is true, And this a prison be, melikes it well_. CV _So well that I shall weave a song of praise And thankfulness because the world was wrought For us and with such providential care-- My brother, I will shame you into singing_. CVI _Then, cried the second, I shall raise a voice And see what poor apologies are made. And so they sang, these two, for many days, And while they sang the rose was beautiful_. CVII _But this affected not the songful ones, And evermore in beauty lived the rose. And when the worms were old and wiser too, They fell to silence and humility_. CVIII A night of silence! 'Twas the swinging sea And this our world of darkness. And the twain Rolled on below the stars; they flung a chain Around the silences which are in me. CIX The shadows come, and they will come to bless Their brother and his dwelling and his fame, When I shall soil no more with any blame Or any praise the silence I possess. APPENDIX ON THE NAME ABU'L-ALA