The Prophet’s high endeavour, Mekka to subdue, Had no foundation in a lust for revenue. 230 He had refused the treasures of the lofty spheres; On day of trial shut his heart to hopes and fears. To catch a glimpse of him the blest angelic train Had crowded heaven’s bounds full as they could contain; In dainty guise, to honour him themselves arrayed; He took no note. On God alone his thoughts were stayed. His heart was filled with sense of his great Maker’s grace. The angels, or the prophets, there could find no place. He said: “I’m he whose eyes swerved not;” no crow, I! See![429] “The Limner is my love; from juice of vine I’m free.”[430] 235 The treasures of “the spheres,” their “animating souls,” As rubbish were accounted, driven by breeze that rolls. What, then, would Mekka weigh,--the Persian, Syrian lands,— That he should covet them, spoil make them for his bands? Suspicion such as this springs from a jaundiced mind. It judges by itself;--all, tinged as self must find. Green spectacles who sets upon his foolish nose, To view the sun, will find him green, we must suppose. Take off the spectacles, the source of colour’s tinge, He straightway sees aright. Now, nature’s hues impinge. 240 A horseman had stirred up the dust in clouds, not faint. A distant looker-on supposed the dust a saint. Thus Satan saw a dust; and cried: “This son of earth Excites in me much envy, hatred, malice, wrath.” If thou, too, so observe God’s saints with envy’s eyes, Be sure thy vision’s tainted. Satan’s hatching lies. Thou obstinate! Art not one of that hell-hound’s sons? Then, whence this heritage of hate’s foul orisons? “I am no hound, God’s Lion am I. God I love. I’m ‘Lion of the Truth.’ Mere form I aye reprove.” 245 A lion of the world may hunt for prey and spoil. A lion of eternity, death’s freedom from turmoil. In death he sees a hundred thousand modes of life. So, mothlike, death he courts; his candle, murderer’s knife. To court grim death’s a collar round the true man’s neck. This was the text proposed, that wrought recusant’s wreck. God’s word revealed hath said: “O men of human race! Death to the faithful is a blessing, and a grace.”[431] A love of gain is innate in the human breast. To court death’s doubtless profit, is to wish the best. 250 Then, O ye stiff-necked people, do, for honour’s sake, The wish for speedy death upon your tongues’ ends take. No recusant was found who dared to lisp that prayer, When thus Muhammed put it as the truth’s assayer. He knew that should they venture that ordeal to prove, In all the world no recusant would thenceforth move. They all preferred to pay their tribute for their lives, And begged: “O lamp of truth, destroy us not, our wives!”[432]