Letters and Literary Remains of Edward Fitzgerald Edited by William Aldis Wright: In seven volumes |
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 | Letters and Literary Remains of Edward Fitzgerald |  |
‘So much for the result; and for the means—
‘Oh Sháh, who would not be himself a slave,
‘Which Sháh least should, and of an appetite
‘Among the basest of his slaves enslaved—
‘Better let Azrael find him on his throne
‘Of Empire sitting childless and alone,
‘Than his untainted Majesty resign
‘To that seditious drink, of which one draught
‘Still for another and another craves,
‘Till it become a noose to draw the Crown
‘From off thy brows—about thy lips a ring,
‘Of which the rope is in a Woman's hand,
‘To lead thyself the road of Nothing down.
‘For what is She? A foolish, faithless thing—
‘A very Káfir in rapacity;
‘Robe her in all the rainbow-tinted woof
‘Of Susa, shot with rays of sunny Gold;
‘Deck her with jewel thick as Night with star;
‘Pamper her appetite with Houri fruit
‘Of Paradise, and fill her jewell'd cup
‘From the green-mantled Prophet's Well of Life—
‘One little twist of temper—all your cost
‘Goes all for nothing: and, as for yourself—
‘Look! On your bosom she may lie for years;
‘But, get you gone a moment out of sight,
‘And she forgets you—worse, if, as you turn,
‘Her eyes on any younger Lover light.’
‘Oh Sháh, who would not be himself a slave,
217
‘Among the basest of his slaves enslaved—
‘Better let Azrael find him on his throne
‘Of Empire sitting childless and alone,
‘Than his untainted Majesty resign
‘To that seditious drink, of which one draught
‘Still for another and another craves,
‘Till it become a noose to draw the Crown
‘From off thy brows—about thy lips a ring,
‘Of which the rope is in a Woman's hand,
‘To lead thyself the road of Nothing down.
‘For what is She? A foolish, faithless thing—
‘A very Káfir in rapacity;
‘Robe her in all the rainbow-tinted woof
‘Of Susa, shot with rays of sunny Gold;
‘Deck her with jewel thick as Night with star;
‘Pamper her appetite with Houri fruit
‘Of Paradise, and fill her jewell'd cup
‘From the green-mantled Prophet's Well of Life—
‘One little twist of temper—all your cost
‘Goes all for nothing: and, as for yourself—
‘Look! On your bosom she may lie for years;
‘But, get you gone a moment out of sight,
‘And she forgets you—worse, if, as you turn,
‘Her eyes on any younger Lover light.’
| Letters and Literary Remains of Edward Fitzgerald | |