Letters and Literary Remains of Edward Fitzgerald ::

Of Ten Intelligences, of which the Last
Sole Agent is in this our Universe,
Active Intelligence so call'd; The One
Distributer of Evil and of Good,
Of Joy and Sorrow. Himself apart from Matter,
In Essence and in Energy—He yet
Hath fashion'd all that is—Material Form,
And Spiritual, all from Him—by Him
Directed all, and in his Bounty drown'd.
Therefore is He that Firmán-issuing Sháh
To whom the World was subject. But because
What He distributes to the Universe
Another and a Higher Power supplies,
Therefore all those who comprehend aright,
That Higher in The Sage will recognise.

HIS the Prime Spirit that, spontaneously
Projected by the Tenth Intelligence,
Was from no womb of Matter reproduced
A special Essence called The Soul of Man;
A Child of Heaven, in raiment unbeshamed
Of Sensual taint, and so Salámán named.

And who Absál?—The Sense-adoring Body,
Slave to the Blood and Sense—through whom The Soul,
Although the Body's very Life it be,
Doth yet imbibe the knowledge and delight
Of things of Sense; and these in such a bond
United as God only can divide,
As Lovers in this Tale are signified.

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And what the Flood on which they sail'd, with those
Fantastic creatures peopled; and that Isle
In which their Paradise awhile they made,
And thought, for ever?—That false Paradise
Amid the fluctuating Waters found
Of Sensual passion, in whose bosom lies
A world of Being from the light of God
Deep as in unsubsiding Deluge drown'd.

And why was it that Absál in that Isle
So soon deceived in her Delight, and He
Fell short of his Desire?—that was to show
How soon the Senses of their Passion tire,
And in a surfeit of themselves expire.

And what the turning of Salámán's Heart
Back to The Shah, and to the throne of Might
And Glory yearning?—What but the return
Of the lost Soul to his true Parentage,
And back from Carnal error looking up
Repentant to his Intellectual Right.

And when the Man between his living Shame
Distracted, and the Love that would not die,
Fled once again—what meant that second Flight
Into the Desert, and that Pile of Fire
On which he fain his Passion with Himself
Would immolate?—That was the Discipline
To which the living Man himself devotes,
Till all the Sensual dross be scorcht away,
And, to its pure integrity return'd,

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His Soul alone survives. But forasmuch
As from a darling Passion so divorced
The wound will open and will bleed anew,
Therefore The Sage would ever and anon
Raise up and set before Salámán's eyes
That Fantom of the past; but evermore
Revealing one Diviner, till his Soul
She fill'd, and blotted out the Mortal Love.
For what is Zuhrah?—What but that Divine
Original, of which the Soul of Man
Darkly possesst, by that fierce Discipline
At last he disengages from the Dust,
And flinging off the baser rags of Sense,
And all in Intellectual Light array'd,
As Conqueror and King he mounts the Throne,
And wears the Crown of Human Glory—Whence,
Throne over Throne surmounting, he shall reign
One with the Last and First Intelligence.

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