§ 1 How Bahrám, Son of Bahrám, ascended the Throne, charged the Nobles, and died

While mourning Sháh Bahrám for forty days
Bahrám himself did not assume the crown.
The warriors, the men exceeding wise,
All grief, all wailing, and all lamentation,
Came and sat with him in his woe and mourning,
Wan-cheeked with lips of lapis-lazuli,
Until a prudent archmage came and said:—
“Will not the Sháh be seated on the throne?”
For one whole se'nnight urgently he strove,
And ceased not till the throne was occupied.*

C. 1427

Now when Bahrám assumed his seat, rejoicing,
And crowned himself as kings are wont, he first
Praised God—the Light of circling time, the Increaser
Of knowledge and of uprightness, the Marrer
Of falsehood and of fraud, the Lord of Saturn
And of revolving heaven, who asketh naught
But love and justice from His slaves—and then
Said thus: “Tried sages and pure archimages!
Hold knowledge great and be not bold with kings.
The man endowed with increase, eloquence,
And leadership by God will strive, if wise,
To compass excellence and cultivate
Humanity, whose attribute is patience,
Because the rash are held contemptible.
Security produceth happiness,
For then distress and toil have turned to wind,
And gathering wealth is like wind too to one
Of noble heart for he is rich already.
Yet get some havings if thou hast them not,
For folk despise the indigent. The man
Possessed of nothing hath no influence,
And none respect him. When thou art content
Thou feel'st at ease, but practise greed and thou
Wilt live in fear, so toil not thus to vex
Thy body and thy soul for greed of treasure.
Choose thou the mean if thou wouldst have folk's praise
In matters temporal. If thou contentest
The world with justice thou wilt be made glad
Thyself thereby and rich. Security
And uprightness, and no default in justice,
Are needful. When joy faileth spirit faileth,
And wisdom 'twixt the twain is impotent,
While if greed clutch thy heart thy soul remaineth
Within the gullet of the Crocodile.”
When he had reigned for twenty years save one
Life mourned him, that crowned Sháh espoused the
dust;
A charnel hid him from the jocund world.
C. 1428
Such is the fashion of the turning sky,
Though thou art feeble it hath mastery,
And such the fashion of this world as well;
It hath its secrets but it ne'er will tell!