Within the sacred precincts of the mosque, Even on the very steps of St. Sophia, He lifted up his voice and spoke these words, El Moulok, who sang naught but love-songs once. And now was crazed because his son was dead O ye who leave our slippers at the portal, as is meet. Give heed an instant ere ye bow in prayer. Ages ago, Allah, grown weary of His myriad worlds. Would one star more to hang against the blue. Then of men's bones, Millions on millions, did He build the earth; Of women's tears, Downfalling through the nighty He made the sea; Of sighs and sobs He made the winds that surge about the globe. Where'er ye tread. Ye tread on dust that once was living man. The mist and rahi Are tears that first from human eyelids fell. The unseen winds Breathe endless lamentation for the dead Not so the ancient tablets told the tale, Not so the Koran! This was blasphemy, And they that heard El Moulok dragged him thence, Even from the very steps of St. Sophia, And loaded him with triple chains of steel, And cast him in a dungeon. None the less Do women's tears fall ceaseless day and night, And none the less do mortals faint and die And turn to dust; and every wind that blows About the globe seems heavy with the grief Of those who sorrow, or have sorrowed, here. Yet none the less is Allah the Most High, The Clement, the Compassionate. He sees Where we are blind, and hallowed be His Name! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A YOUNG LADY'S SIXTH ANNIVERSARY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE VALLEY BROOK by JOHN HOWARD BRYANT BETRAYAL by HESTER H. CHOLMONDELEY WHAT MY LOVER SAID by HOMER GREENE THE DESCRIPTION OF COOKHAM by AEMILIA (BASSANO) LANYER THE BRIDGE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |