My share of life is finished; I am laid
On my death-bed.
Did he not die, our father Adam, also,
...
The sea hath tempered it; the mighty sun
Polished the blade,
And from the limpid sheath the sword leaps forth;
...
Go not, beloved and cruel; I have not strength
To say farewell to thee, thou canst not go!
Behold the fountain of my tears at length
...
Pale fingers of the drowsy dawn have rent
The garment of the night, and thou, beloved,
Tearest the sad weeds of my discontent
...
Salma, Salma, have I forgotten thee?
In the glow of the fight I remember the night
When we parted;
...
Woo not the world too rashly, for behold,
Beneath the painted silk and broidering,
It is a faithless and inconstant thing.
...