. The poems of Edwin Arnold .. . g the son of Ali. One guesc cried,Dog! wert thou mine, for this thing thou shouldst howl!Another, Wretch! thou meritest to yet another, Hassan! give me leaveTo smite away this swines head with my sword!Even Hassans self was moved; but the boy fellFace to the earth and cried. My lord! tis writ,Paradise is for them that check their writ so, Hassan said; I am not lord! the boy sobbed on, also tis writ,k Pardo7i the tresfyasser. Hassan replied,Tis written—I remember—I forgive. Now is the blessing of the Most High GodOn thee, dear Master!-
. The poems of Edwin Arnold .. . g the son of Ali. One guesc cried,Dog! wert thou mine, for this thing thou shouldst howl!Another, Wretch! thou meritest to yet another, Hassan! give me leaveTo smite away this swines head with my sword!Even Hassans self was moved; but the boy fellFace to the earth and cried. My lord! tis writ,Paradise is for them that check their writ so, Hassan said; I am not lord! the boy sobbed on, also tis writ,k Pardo7i the tresfyasser. Hassan replied,Tis written—I remember—I forgive. Now is the blessing of the Most High GodOn thee, dear Master!- cried the happy slave,For He—tis writ—loves the ! I remember, and I thank thee, slave,Quoth Hassan;— better is one noble verseFetched from the Book, than gold and crystal broughtFrom Yamans hills. Lords! he hath marred the dish*But mended fault with wisdom. See, my slave!I give thee freedom, and this purse to buyThe robe and turban of a Muslim freed. Al Ghafir! pardon us, as weForgive a brother s PEARLS OF TEE FAITH. 245 Grateful—Ash-Shdkir—is He; praise Him soWho thanketh men for that He did bestow. So much hast thou of thy hoardAs thou gavest to thy Lord;Only this will bring thee inUsance rich and free from sin:Send thy silver on before,Lending to His sick and dirhem dropped in aimsTouches Allahs open palms,Ere it fall into the handsOf thy brother. Allah standsBegging of thee, when thy brotherAsketh help. Ah! if anotherProffered thee, for meat and drink,Food upon Al-Kauthar s brink,1Shining Kauthar which doth flowSweet as honey, cool as snow,White as milk, and smooth as cream, .Underneath its banks, which gleam—?Green and golden chrysolite,In the Gardens of delight,Whence who drinks never againTasteth sorrow, age, or pain—Who would not make merchandise,Buying bliss in Paradise,Laying up his treasure whereStores are safe and profits clear?But ye lend at lower cost,Whilst Ash-Shakir offers returning se
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Keywords: ., bo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, booksubjectbuddhaandbuddhism
