Then came Sikandar's mother hurrying,
And long while pressed her visage over him.
She said: “O thou illustrious king of kings,
Lord of the world, star-favoured, and devout!
Near as thou art, thou art yet far from me,
Far from thy host, thy kingdom, and thy people.
May my soul wait on thine, and be their hearts
Plucked out that joy hereat.”

Then Rúshanak

Came full of anguish, saying: “Noble Sháh!
Where are Dárá, son of Dáráb, the master
And up-stay of the world,*

and all the kings
Whose head the blast sent dustward on the day
Of battle? Like a fierce cloud charged with hail
Wast thou and safe, I would have said, from death.
With so much warfare, combating, and bloodshed
In single action and in stricken field,
I would have said that fate had given thee
Safe conduct, and thou keepest from thy men
The secret, yet hast thou, when thou hadst voided
The world of chiefs, cast off the imperial crown,

And when the tree which thou hadst planted bore
I see thee with the dust to comrade thee!”
Now when the Crown of heaven had set, and when
The mighty men had had their fill of talk,
They hid Sikandar's coffin in the dust.
To do such things the world is not afraid;
It merely giveth back what it conveyed
From wind at first, and this I hold to be
Not clearly justice yet not tyranny.
To thee the how and why are hidden things,
And past the reach of subjects and of kings.
Yet beauty, kindness, generosity,
With good and joyance, still are left to thee;
And, be thou chief or subject, with such store
I see not aught that thou canst wish for more;
But if thou leavest here a name for vice
Thou'lt lose God's grace and jocund Paradise.*

The ancient Hostel's wont is still the same;
Sikandar went, but left behind him fame.
Though able six and thirty kings to slay
Where is his portion in the world to-day?
Ten cities were erected 'neath his sway,
All splendid, but ten thorn-brakes now are they.
He sought what no man ever sought before,
And wide-spread fame is left him but no more,
Yet fame is good for fame will not decay
Like some old dwelling weather-worn away.
The barrier of Sikandar we have past,
May all be well and of auspicious cast,
And may the monarch of the world*

be still
Of joyous heart and free from every ill.