The Seven Stages will I next set forth
In words both novel and of dainty worth.
Oh! may the world's Sháh live for ever, may
Its potentates be slaves beneath his sway!
He showed his visage like bright Sol above,
And graced the surface of the earth with love.
Sol was in Aries when first he wore
The crown, and East and West rejoiced therefore.
The thunder-peal is rolling o'er the hills,
And tulip and narcissus throng the rills,
The patient tulip, arch narcissus, yea
And awesome spikenard and pomegranate gay.
The clouds have hearts of fire and tearful eyes,
And bursts of anger mix with melodies.
The levin flasheth and the waters leap
Till at the din thou rousest from thy sleep.
Thus wakened look abroad and call the scene
Brocade or painted by Mání in Chín,*

A scene that, bright in sunshine, having spied
The tulip and narcissus still wet-eyed,
Will laugh and cry: “Ye minxes! thus again
I weep for love of you, not wrath or pain.”
Earth hath no laughter while the heaven is dry.
I do not call our great king's hand the sky,
Which only giveth forth its rains in spring,
For such is not the usance of a king.
As Sol, when it ariseth gloriously
In Aries, such shall the Sháh's hand be,
For whensoe'er there cometh to his hand
A wealth of pearls or musk from sea or land,
The radiance that is his he doth not scant
To proud-necked monarch and to mendicant.
Abú'l Kásim! our great Sháh's hand is still
Thus generous alike to good and ill.
He never slackeneth in bounteousness,
And never resteth on the day of stress,
Delivereth battle when the times demand,
And taketh heads of monarchs in his hand,
But largesseth the humble with his spoils,
And maketh no account of his own toils.
Oh! may Mahmúd still rule the world, still be
The source of bounty and of equity!

Now list to what an ancient sage hath told,
And learn the legend of the Brazen Hold.