Letters and Literary Remains of Edward Fitzgerald Edited by William Aldis Wright: In seven volumes |
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![]() | VII. |
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![]() | Letters and Literary Remains of Edward Fitzgerald | ![]() |
Sick at heart for want of Children,
Ran before the Saint a Fellow,
Catching at his garment, crying,
‘Master, hear and help me! Pray
‘That Allah from the barren clay
‘Raise me up a fresh young Cypress,
‘Who my longing eyes may lighten,
‘And not let me like a vapour
‘Unremember'd pass away.’
But the Dervish said—‘Consider;
‘Wisely let the matter rest
‘In the hands of Allah wholly,
‘Who, whatever we are after,
‘Understands our business best.’
Still the man persisted—‘Master,
‘I shall perish in my longing:
‘Help, and set my prayer a-going!’
Then the Dervish raised his hand—
From the mystic Hunting-land
Of Darkness to the Father's arms
A musky Fawn of China drew—
A Boy—who, when the shoot of Passion
In his Nature planted grew,
Took to drinking, dicing, drabbing.
From a corner of the house-top
Ill-insulting honest women,
Dagger-drawing on the husband;
And for many a city-brawl
Still before the Cadi summon'd,
Still the Father pays for all.
Day and night the youngster's doings
Such—the city's talk and scandal;
Neither counsel, threat, entreaty,
Moved him—till the desperate Father
Once more to the Dervish running,
Catches at his garment—crying—
‘Oh my only Hope and Helper!
‘One more Prayer! That God, who laid,
‘Would take this trouble from my head!’
But the Saint replied ‘Remember
‘How that very Day I warn'd you
‘Not with blind petition Allah
‘Trouble to your own confusion;
‘Unto whom remains no more
‘To pray for, save that He may pardon
‘What so rashly pray'd before.’
Ran before the Saint a Fellow,
Catching at his garment, crying,
‘Master, hear and help me! Pray
‘That Allah from the barren clay
‘Raise me up a fresh young Cypress,
‘Who my longing eyes may lighten,
‘And not let me like a vapour
‘Unremember'd pass away.’
But the Dervish said—‘Consider;
‘Wisely let the matter rest
‘In the hands of Allah wholly,
‘Who, whatever we are after,
‘Understands our business best.’
Still the man persisted—‘Master,
‘I shall perish in my longing:
‘Help, and set my prayer a-going!’
Then the Dervish raised his hand—
From the mystic Hunting-land
216
A musky Fawn of China drew—
A Boy—who, when the shoot of Passion
In his Nature planted grew,
Took to drinking, dicing, drabbing.
From a corner of the house-top
Ill-insulting honest women,
Dagger-drawing on the husband;
And for many a city-brawl
Still before the Cadi summon'd,
Still the Father pays for all.
Day and night the youngster's doings
Such—the city's talk and scandal;
Neither counsel, threat, entreaty,
Moved him—till the desperate Father
Once more to the Dervish running,
Catches at his garment—crying—
‘Oh my only Hope and Helper!
‘One more Prayer! That God, who laid,
‘Would take this trouble from my head!’
But the Saint replied ‘Remember
‘How that very Day I warn'd you
‘Not with blind petition Allah
‘Trouble to your own confusion;
‘Unto whom remains no more
‘To pray for, save that He may pardon
‘What so rashly pray'd before.’
![]() | Letters and Literary Remains of Edward Fitzgerald | ![]() |