The Shah, our heavenly highness and our king, Is as an angel or a Jupiter; Face of the moon and beauty of the sun Are his; his fortune and his blood are peers. A prince is he of high and happy line, Of fair renown and intellectual power. The very glory of the Osman house, Elected as the Sultan of the land, Is Shah Mustapha Ben Suleiman, born A very shah from royal ancestors. He is the man, who by his skill to guide, Has filled the earth, the age, with happiness. Worth is alone the banner and the crown Which win, by merit, throne and diadem. Worthy successor of the Osman kings Among the sultans, like a monument He stands, a sun of bright prosperity. Shah of the moon and mirror of success. He in the shining jewel case of bliss We style the pearl of lofty destinies, A shah who is so filled with rectitude, That he is the Nuschernan of his time; So brilliant he in generosity That he eclipses Hatim Tais’ renown. His justice is the ruler of the world, Which by his grace is nourished and upheld. His righteous mind gives happiness to all, His loving-kindness is their highest gain. He visits with severity the bad, But on the good he heaps his favors high. And as he grace and wrath in men perceives He takes the goblet or he draws the sword. He is a hero of full gallant mien, Whose aspect is the dread of Rusteman. As blows across the mead the autumn breeze And the reeds quake, so quake the hearts of foes. When Gog and Magog thunder forth their threats Their vanquished power is driven back again; And when the lands with panic fear are struck, The armies of the foe are trod in dust. And Tahmas trembles at his gleaming sword As Euas once before great Timur quailed. The Persian’s head was ruddy with his gore; No wine ran ever in a redder stream. His royal heart had then divided cares, To terrify his foes, and heal his friends. Fear of the Shah dissolved the foeman’s rage, His pity melted friendly hearts in love. The fear of him made Rusteman grow weak, And fly, with bloody spoils behind him trailed. And while his loving-kindness calmed the world He won the love alike of young and old. And while his might and power waxed eminent He brought the hearts of all to beat with his. As the high cypress flings a shadow round, His presence crushed in agony his foes; Before his greatness and his loftiness, The spirit of earth’s peoples ebbed away. And were the doughty Dschemschid living yet, He’d give himself in slavery to the Shah. When Skender first his gleaming grandeur saw He wished to be the slave of such a king. Were Feridum to see his greatness now, He would have promised fealty to his house. And on his threshold Cæsar would have dropped, Like to a slave, his laurel-covered sword.