1. The days of youth are joyful days, blissful days
To live beneath their wonder-working shade

2. And feel the zephyr of their gentle gales,
Which with the breath of musk the morning scents,

3. And see the lightning-flashes of their dawns
Sport with their gowns out-blushing all the rose.

4. The mead is rippled by the pearly hail
And clad in saffron blooms the joyous Spring.

5. We passed a night whose first was bright as moon-lit pearls,
A night too fleet for all our joy of it,

6. When a slim maiden on my wrist alit,
Quoth she, 'An whit of pleasure thou wouldst win,

7. Not every way of joy is lawful. Beware!'
Thus dearly with forbidding she began,

8. Yet showed me suns could rise unsullied still,
Though late they seemed to mortals' purblind eyes

9. Dipped in the darkness of the nightly sea.
Her tribe all gaze upon this sun of mine;

10. Humble their birth yet nobly bred are they,
Of human kind, but of an elfin strain

11. From both the parents. When the war-clouds rise
Thick-piled, then I address the warriors thus:

12. 'Ye, that have followed in my wandering steps,
Unto a land whose tongue is foreign to mine ears,

13. Where I became the spokesman of Arabish lore.
'Its empty courts and chambers presently

14. Shall teem again-this desolation of the tombs
Shall yet give place unto a living throng.'

15. High13 raised their glories, preying wide renown
With lavish honour and with conquests won.

16. Thou that to-day wouldst ride the self-same road,
How vain for thee to dream their dust could fail

17. From off the moving pageant's glorious train!
Nay, thou vain trifler with a foolish love,

18. 'Tis not for thee to win the mistress' heart.
Grey hairs wax finest in such fantasies.

19. Prince Omar rules and guides his people's needs,
Restraining hurts. Meet is it he be named

20. Chiefest of Ghassan's children and her star.
When glory beckons on the day of strife,

21. Noble and free born of a princely line,
Tracing from that Tadmur whence springs thy race,

22. Whose fame no minstrel of the past let die.
Once in the gloom, to horsemen questioning

23. Of Abu Hafs, wont to rein the wild steed's pride,
I thus made answer, 'Yon bright planet see!

24. Seek ye the morning beams it scattereth wide.
With kindly gifts it greets the penitent,

25. Pardoning faults with sweet forgiveness' grace.
Hail to the guest! For who draws nigh shall find

26. A home as though mid long tried brethren born.
A refuge for the outcast wretch its courts,

27. Weighed down with woes from which he could not flee.'
Smooth its approach, that who hath need may hope,

28. Though far from hope he be!
Stern is its law; yet knows it how to jest.

29. No profit in the colt that will not frolic.
Hard, if the times bring ills; soft if they end.

30. Weak, if it bend not to misfortune's shock.
Love hath it for its kin, but its own tribes

31. Are dearest; strangers next gain its regard.
So with Attab's children now; behold

32. Their tribe is as the footing of the age.
Not as their sires-they walk otherwhere-

33. Strange sons sprung from a strange unfathered root.
Nor may Prince Omar meet among his peers

34. One who shall match his proud preeminence.
Honour comes slow to him who never toils,

35. Whose pillow is not moist with sweat of pain.
Bright glows the face made shining through endeavour.

36. No merit comes by sloth. No gain without labour.
A sea it is that surges over simple folk,

37. Whene'er the winds of question stir its waves.
Filled are its udders till the milk gush forth.

38. Barren and dry they turn when milked no more.
Ye scions of the house of Ghassan! Can ye hope

39. For followers like unto your father's found?
My soaring thoughts were trained by Omar's soul

40. To fixedness of purpose and sure flight.
Lavish of praise, his noble name I decked

41. With gems of verse that cannot choose but glitter.
Good is the praise that wisely orders speech.

42. Yet how much finer is the well-wrought line!
Strange seemed the virtues that in him I found.

43. Strange must the poet be who would praise aright.
When thou wert generous I was justified,

44. And spoke my true thought blameless and sincere.
But if for others I essayed like praise,

45. 'Twere but to wrong truth's self, and I lied.