HKB
XX.
When by and bye The Shah was made aware Of that Soul-wasting absence of his Son, He reach'd a Cry to Heav'n—his Eyelashes Wept Blood—Search everywhere he set a-foot, But none could tell the hidden Mystery. Then bade he bring a Mirror that he had, A Mirror, like the Bosom of the wise, Reflecting all the World, and lifting up The Veil from all its Secret, Good and Evil. That Mirror bade he bring, and, in its Face Looking, beheld the Face of his Desire. He saw those Lovers in the Solitude, Turn'd from the World, and all its ways, and People, And looking only in each other's Eyes, And never finding any Sorrow there. The Shah beheld them as they were, and Pity Fell on his Eyes, and he reproach'd them not; And, gathering all their Life into his Hand, Not a Thread lost, disposed in Order all. Oh for the Noble Nature, and Clear Heart, That, seeing Two who draw one Breath together Drinking the Cup of Happiness and Tears Unshatter'd by the Stone of Separation, Is loath their sweet Communion to destroy, Or cast a Tangle in the Skein of Joy.
The Arrows that assail the Lords of Sorrow Come from the Hand of Retribution. Do Well, that in thy Turn Well may betide Thee; And turn from Ill, that Ill may turn beside Thee.
Firhád, Moulder of the Mountain, Love-distracted looked to Shírín, And Shírín the Sculptor's Passion Saw, and turn'd her Heart to Him.
Then the Fire of Jealous Frenzy Caught and carried up the Harvest Of the Might of Kai Khusrau.
Plotting with that ancient Hag Of Fate, the Sculptor's Cup he poison'd And remained the Lord of Love.
So—But Fate that Fate avenges Arms Shirúeh with the Dagger, That at once from Shírín tore him, Hurl'd him from the Throne of Glory.
XXI.
But as the days went on, and still The Shah Beheld Salámán how sunk in Absál, And yet no Hand of better Effort lifted; But still the Crown that shall adorn his Head, And still the Throne that waited for his Foot, Trampled from Memory by a Base Desire, Of which the Soul was still unsatisfied— Then from the Sorrow of The Shah fell Fire; To Gracelessness Ungracious he became, And, quite to shatter his rebellious Lust, Upon Salámán all his Will discharged. And Lo! Salámán to his Mistress turn'd, But could not reach her—look'd and look'd again, And palpitated tow'rd her—but in Vain! Oh Misery! what to the Bankrupt worse Than Gold he cannot reach! To one Athirst Than Fountain to the Eye and Lip forbid!— Or than Heaven opened to the Eyes in Hell!— Yet, when Salámán's Anguish was extreme, The Door of Mercy open'd in his Face; He saw and knew his Father's Hand outstretcht To lift him from Perdition—timidly, Timidly tow'rd his Father's Face his own He lifted, Pardon-pleading, Crime-confest, As the stray Bird one day will find her Nest.
A Disciple ask'd a Master, "By what Token should a Father Vouch for his reputed Son?" Said the Master, "By the Stripling, Howsoever Late or Early, Like to the Reputed Father Growing—whether Wise or Foolish.
"Lo the disregarded Darnel With itself adorns the Wheat-field, And for all the Early Season Satisfies the Farmer's Eye; But come once the Hour of Harvest. And another Grain shall answer, 'Darnel and no Wheat, am I.'"
XXII.