To Abul Alaa Poem by Ameen Rihani

In thy melancholy's pensive Fancy
Wisdom rolled its beauteous stars and moons,
Just as in my riotings of pleasure
Thy lone midnights roll into my noons.
Abu'l-Ala, in thy glorious darkness
Didst thou not remember unborn me?
In thy journey to the farthest planets
Didst thou not a burdened shadow see?
Ay, behind the portals of Saturnus
Secretly the cup to thee I passed;
Long, long after this cup thou returnest
Filled with gems of fancy and recast.
In thy Prison a thousand Yamen weapons
Thou didst forge for the oppressed and weak:
In my attic a thousand Beauty roses
I pluck for thee from a Yankee cheek.