56. Mír Mas'úd * glories in his glorious time As did the Prophet in Núshirwán's day.*

57. The purse as rich as Korah * to him comes, The beggar comes in suppliant's array;

58. The beggar leaves him gold-lined as a purse, The purse it is which empty goes away.”

In conclusion I give the last seven bayts of this qaṣída,

The Madiḥa, or Panegyric proper. wherein the poet craves his patron's favour and generosity, and prays for his long life. A hint that a reward would be acceptable to the poet (which always comes near the end of the poem), is called, when neatly introduced and expressed, ḥusn-i-ṭalab, or “beauty of demand.” The last three bayts of the poem also illustrate the figure called ḥusn-i-maqṭa', or “beauty of conclusion,” which, in Gladwin's words (p. 62), “is when the poet exerts himself in the concluding verses, and ends with something striking, in order that the reader may leave off with satisfaction, and be induced to excuse any inaccuracies which may have occurred in the course of the poem.” He adds very truly that “in the qaṣída the husn-i-maqṭa' is generally used in imploring blessing.”

66. “O Master! Hither do I come in hope To gain some gleanings from thy bounteous sway.

67. To thee come flocking ever men of parts, For like to like doth surely find the way.

68. Provide me with some place, and thou shalt see Di'bil and A'shá * envious of my lay!

69. But if of serving thee I be deprived, My pen I'll burn, my fingers hew away.

70. So long as sounds the dove's and woodcock's cry, And name of hawk and Símurgh * with us stay,

71. Thy frame be lasting and thine eye be bright, Thy heart be pure, thy luck increasing aye!

72. God give me Bashshár's * talent, and the tongue Of Ibnu Muqbil, thee to praise alway!”

We now come to the qiṭ'a, and for this few words will The Qiṭ'a or Fragment. suffice. Essentially (as its name implies) it is, as has been already said, merely a detached “frag­ment” of a qaṣída, but it may be an uncompleted fragment—a torso, so to speak; or it may be so far complete in itself that the poet never intended to add to it. Nay, in some cases its style and subject-matter are such that it was evidently intended from the first to be an independent poem. The following “fragment” by Anwarí (died A.D. 1191) may suffice as a specimen:—

“‘Have patience; patience will perform thy work
Quickly and well,’ to me a comrade said;
‘The water to the river will return;
Thine aims shall speed as never they have sped.’
I said: ‘Suppose the water does return,
What boots it, if the fish meanwhile be dead?’”

This “fragment” is evidently complete in itself, and no addition to it can ever have been contemplated.

The rubá'í or quatrain, again, is formally two bayts (whence called dú-baytí) or four hemistichs (whence called rubá'í) from The Rubá'í or Quatrain. the beginning of a qaṣída or ghazal written in certain varieties of a particular metre, the Hazaj; but, like the epigram, it is always complete in itself. FitzGerald's beautiful renderings of the quatrains of 'Umar Khayyám have rendered this verse-form so familiar that it is hardly necessary to say more of it in this place. As I have observed, however, that some admirers of FitzGerald's 'Umar imagine that quatrains can be linked together to form a poem, I should perhaps emphasise the fact that the effect of continuity in FitzGerald's version is due to his arrangement and selection of the rubá'ís which he translated, and that quatrains are always quite independent and complete in them­selves, and, in the collected works of Persian poets, are never arranged otherwise than alphabetically, according to the final letter of the rhyme. The quatrain metres, as we said above, are generally special derivatives of the Hazaj, and the first, second, and fourth miṣrá's must rhyme, while the third need not, and generally does not. The two following quatrains extemporised by Mu'izzí for the Seljúq Maliksháh (whose Poet-laureate he afterwards became) are not, perhaps, of any special literary merit, but are historically interesting, since we have in the Four Discourses (pp. 67-70 of the tirage-à-part) the poet's own account, given to the author of that work, of the circumstances under which they were composed. He says:—

“My father Burhání, the Poet-laureate (may God be merciful to him!) passed away from this transitory to that eternal world in the Instance of improvisation from the Chahár Maqála. town of Qazwín in the early part of the reign of Maliksháh, entrusting me to the King in this verse, since then become famous:—

Man raftam, u farzand-i-man ámad khalaf-i-ṣidq;
Úrá bi-Khudá ú bi-Khudáwand sipurdam. *
‘I am flitting, but I leave a son behind me,
And commend him to my God and to my King.’

“So my father's salary and allowances were transferred to me, and I became Maliksháh's Court-poet, and spent a year in the King's service; yet was I unable to see him save from a distance, nor did I get one dínár of my salary or one maund of my allowances, while my expenditure was increased, I became involved in debt, and my brain was perplexed by my affairs. For that great minister, the Nidhámu'l-Mulk (may God be merciful to him!), had no opinion of poets, because he had no skill in their art; nor did he pay any attention to any one of the religious leaders or mystics.

“One day—it was the eve of the day on which the new moon of Ramaḍán was due to appear, and I had not a farthing to meet all the expenses incidental to that month and the feast which follows it —I went thus sad at heart to the Amír 'Alí Farámarz 'Alá'u'd-Dawla, * a man of royal parentage, a lover of poetry, and the intimate com­panion and son-in-law of the King, with whom he enjoyed the highest honour, and before whom he could speak boldly, since he held high rank under that administration. And he had already been my patron. I said, ‘May my lord's life be long! Not all that the father could do can the son do, nor does that which accrued to the father accrue to the son. My father was a bold and energetic man, and was sustained by his art, and the martyred King Alp Arslán, the lord of the world, entertained the highest opinion of him. But what he could do that cannot I, for modesty forbids me. I have served this prince for a year, and have contracted debts to the extent of a thousand dínárs, and have not received a farthing. Crave permis­sion, then, for thy servant to go to Níshápúr, and discharge his debts, and live on that which is left over, and express his gratitude to this victorious dynasty.’

“‘Thou speakest truly,’ replied Amír 'Alí: ‘we have all been at fault, but this shall be so no longer. The King, at the time of Evening Prayer, will go up to look for the moon. Thou must be present there, and we will see what Fortune will do.’ Thereupon he at once ordered me to receive a hundred dínárs to defray my Ramaḍán expenses, and a purse containing this sum in Níshápúr coinage was forthwith brought and placed before me. So I returned, mightily well pleased, and made my preparations for Ramaḍán, and at the time of the second prayer went to the King's pavilion. It chanced that 'Alá'u'd-Dawla arrived at the very same moment, and I paid my respects to him. ‘Thou hast done exceedingly well,’ said he, ‘and hast come punctually.’ Then he dismounted and went in before the King.

“At sundown the King came forth from his pavilion, with a cross­bow in his hand and 'Alá'u'd-Dawla on his right hand. I ran forward to do obeisance. Amír 'Alí continued the kindnesses he had already shown me, and then busied himself in looking for the moon. The King, however, was the first to see it, whereat he was mightily pleased. Then 'Alá'u'd-Dawla said to me, ‘O son of Burhání, say something appropriate,’ and I at once recited these two verses:—*

Ay Máh! chú abruwán-i-Yárí, gú'í,
Yá nay, chú kamán-i-Shahriyárí gú'í,
Na'li zada az zar-i-'iyárí, gú'í,
Bar gúsh-i-sipihr gúshwárí, gú'í.