Since he Eden's heaven created, all is there complete and whole, So that naught is lacking; nothing he created needs repair. Yonder, for his righteous servants, things so fair hath he devised, That no eye hath e'er beheld them; ope thy soul's eye, on them stare. Never have his servants heard them, neither can their hearts conceive; Reach unto their comprehension shall this understanding ne'er. There that God a station lofty, of the loftiest, hath reared, That unclouded station he the name Vesila caused to bear, That to his Belovèd yonder station a dear home may be, Thence ordained is Heaven's order free from every grief and care. In its courtyard's riven center, planted he the Tuba-Tree; That a tree which hangeth downward, high aloft its roots are there: Thus its radiance all the Heavens lighteth up from end to end, Flooding every tent and palace, every lane and every square. Such a tree the Tuba, that the Gracious One hath in its sap Hidden whatsoe'er there be of gifts and presents good and fair; Forth therefrom crowns, thrones, and jewels, yea, and steeds and coursers come, Golden leaves and clearest crystals, wines most pure beyond compare. For his sake there into being hath he called the Tuba-Tree, That from Ebu-Qasim's hand might every one receive his share. * * * * * POEMS BY TURKISH RULERS RUBA'I Cupbearer, bring, bring here again my yester even's wine; My harp and rebec bring, them bid address this heart of mine: While still I live, 'tis meet that I should mirth and glee enjoy; The day shall come when none may e'en my resting-place divine.—_Sultan Murad II._ (reigned 1421-1451). GAZEL Souls are fluttered when the morning breezes through thy tresses stray; Waving cypresses are wildered when thy motions they survey. Since with witchcraft thou hast whetted keen the lancet of thy glance, All my veins are bleeding inward through my longing and dismay. "Why across thy cheek disordered float thy tresses?" asked I her. "It is Rum-Eyli; there high-starred heroes gallop," did she say. Thought I, though I spake not: "In thy quarter, through thy tint and scent, Wretched and head-giddy, wand'ring, those who hope hope not for stray." "Whence the anger in thy glances, O sweet love?" I said; then she: "Silence! surely if I shed blood, I the ensigns should display." Even as thou sighest, 'Avni, shower thine eyes tears fast as rain, Like as follow hard the thunder-roll the floods in dread array. —_Sultan Mohammed II._ (1451-1481). FRAGMENT OF GAZEL