He was a relation of Shihābu-d-dīn Aḥmad Khān* and his name was Muḥammad Sharīf. Alas, that such a noble* name should be borne by such a vile fellow! For he was more heretical than any person who, in this brief age, was known by the same name.* He was not a Basākhẉānī pure and simple nor a Ṣabāḥī* ³⁷⁹ pure and simple, but was betwixt and between these two sects damned by God and cursed by the people, and believed in cycles* and held the doctrine of the transmigration of souls, nay, he contended and strove for these doctrines. One day in Bhimbar,* which is a city on the border of the highlands of Kashmīr, he came to my lodging in order to ask me to accompany him into Kashmīr. He saw some slabs of rock, weighing over thirty-five tons* each, lying about, and said sorrowfully. ‘These unfortu­nates are awaiting the time when they shall put on human form.’ In spite of all these vile beliefs he has written qaṣīdahs in praise of the holy Imāms (may the acceptance of God be on them all), but these must have been written when he was young. In penmanship, letter-writing and accounts he had wonderful skill, and although he was not studious he had devoted some attention to Arabic works on history and had acquired familiarity with their style. The following few couplets are by him:—

“In order that my lamentations in thy absence may not betray
my secret,
I pray that my weakness may utter no sound in the night of
my sorrow.”

“How will shame allow me to raise my head when thou seest
me?
For my love for thee has made thy name the talk of all
tongues.

The torment of the stranger's hard-heartedness has cast fire
into my heart
For though thou afflictest him a hundred times he turns not
to thee.”

“Beneath the wound of thy sword I flinch not intentionally;
It may be that I give thee some knowledge of my
weakness.”

“She reminds me of the restlessness which I suffer in her
absence,
One would think that once in the days of my youth she had
asked me how I did.”*

“For each one of the fair that I see I experience such ecstasies
of love,
³⁸⁰ That the fire of desire for her leaps into flame in my soul.”

“Every hour thou accusest me of some fresh fault,
As thou seekest only to vex me I wonder not at this.”

“I wish not to be questioned at the day of judgment,
For I fear that I should have to tell what I have suffered in
my love for thee.”

“Thou vexest none but me, and I am glad
That thou hast such dealings with none but me.”

“In the night of absence from thee I suffer grief in a hundred
forms,
In the midst of the sighs and lamentations which my mouth*
utters.”

“One can see from without the burning of my heart in my
body,

As one sees the flame of a candle in a lamp covered with a
shirt.
I fell as one dead when I bade thee farewell,
That thou mightest know that in thy absence I have no desire
to live.”

The following few couplets are from a qaṣīdah which he wrote in praise of the Imām Ḥusain (on him be peace):—

“Whenever, from the fierceness of love's fire, I burst into flame
like a candle,
The flame ever and anon beats against me like a moth.
Since my love has assured himself of my fidelity and love he
employs himself in cruelty.
Would that I had never submitted myself to the violence of a
test!
If I should become a partaker of the bounty of thy heart
It will be possible for me to convey a hundred tales in
one word.
So common has the content of opulence become in the age of
thy magnanimity
That the soulless body turns with loathing from the prospect ³⁸¹
of life eternal
When the weight of thy commands affects the nature of the
wind
Even the light breeze oppresses the earth with the weight of
a mountain.
There is no king like me to-day in the kingdom of eloquence,
Whoever doubts this let him test the truth of what I say by
this Bismi‘-llāh* which I utter.
O ye, beloved of the virgin of reality, when my thoughts
soar
They display their beauty through the windows of heaven.”
From another qaṣīdah,
“If cruelty is done by thee my heart cheerfully submits to it.

It may be that God will yet give thee a feeling heart.
I die of jealousy when I consider that love for thee
Gives to each heart which it enters pain eternal.
By night when I light my heart with thoughts of thee
The burning glow of my heart is a lamp to the seven
heavens.”

He wrote this qaṣīdah in praise of her holiness the lady who is the shining one of paradise and the chief of women,* (may God accept her), but when it came to me in this form I found it to be one of his blasphemous compositions, and I have therefore not considered it right to quote any of the encomiastic couplets. Sharif's death occurred in A.H. 1002 (A.D. 1593-94). He left many valuable books behind him, but they were lost in the deep sea and found their way to the ocean which surrounds the world.