He paid his schoolpence then;--he’s now lord of the hour! So Abbās[321] sallied forth to war, with fierce intent, To put Muhammed down,--Islām to circumvent. Defender of the Faith, till death, he then became; The Caliphate was destined, in his line, to fame! 555 So am I come, in hopes at this court to advance; Though at its gate as yet, I feel I’ve every chance. In quest of bread am I; as offering, water bring. The hope of bread sets wide heaven’s portals at one swing. ’Twas bread that drove out Adam from his paradise; ’Tis bread will gain me entrance where my hopes take rise. From bread, from water, both, as angels, far I stroll; And, following the spheres, around this centre roll! Without an object none will toil on earth, you see, Save true and godly lovers. They’re from motives free!” 560 Th’ Infinite’s lovers finite’s worshippers are not. Who seek the finite lose th’ Infinite, as we wot. When finite with the finite falls in love, perforce, His loved one soon returns to her infinite source. A beard that puts itself into another’s grasp, In lather’s smothered; emblem of a weak mind’s gasp. He’s not his own lord; cannot guide his own affairs; He does but what he’s told; where’er he’s bid, repairs. Would’st sin with woman? Choose, at least, one that is free. Would’st rob and steal? Let pearls and jewels be thy fee. 565 A slave obeys a master; has himself no will; The scent is all the rose’s; thorns show no such skill. A slave may not attain to wish that he may form; His toil is vain, his trouble profitless;--poor worm! Shall hunter snare a shadow? Where were then his food? A shadow’s not a substance;--can do no one good. A foolish hunter seized the shadow of a bird! The fowl, on tree securely perched, not one foot stirred; But, wondering, thought: “What is the stupid fool about? Demented, sure; his little wit he’s let ooze out!” 570 But if thou thinkest finite’s of th’ Infinite born; And sayest: “For love of rose, do honour to the thorn;” Consider: finite unto Infinite’s not joined. Or what need of the prophets? They’ve not scripture coined. The prophets have been sent to link the two in one. If they’re not two, but one, what have the prophets done? But let that be. Th’ inquiry has no useful end. The day is waning; let us to our tale attend.