§ 11 Thanksgiving to the Maker and Praise of Mahmúd, the great King

To Him who made it let all praise ascend;
The Maker of space, time, and earth is He;
From Him are the beginning and the end,
From Him are passion and tranquillity:

He made the starry heavens, earth, and time
The great and little of the world are His,
From worthless stubble to the throne sublime
All things bear witness to us that He is.

Call none but Him the Author of the whole,
Whose ken naught open or concealed can shun,
Who showered blessings on Muhammad's soul,
And on his comrades also, every one.

They all were holy men and continent;
None can compute the words which erst they said;
Now by us too let countless words be spent
In thanking Him by whom the world was made.

Praise we the crown too of the king of kings,
Whose throne doth cause the moon itself to shine,
World-lord Mahmúd, the source whence largessings
And bounties spring, and who hath Grace divine.

Brave, bounteous, dowered with Grace, and just is he,
The age hath grown all joyful 'neath his sway—
The lord of peace, of crown, and treasury,
The lord of scimitar, of ax, and fray.

Our gracious world-lord, conscious what is meant
By merit, thanketh God through whom his hold
Is on the crown. Wise, fair, and eloquent
Is he, in years a youth, in wisdom old.

His Grace compelleth rain from Jupiter,
We sport beneath the shadow of his wings,
In fight he maketh heaven his echoer,
He scattereth jewels at his banquetings.

When he is wroth the mountains melt away,
The welkin quaketh o'er the dust below;
His sires were Sháhs and monarchs ere his day,
And sun and moon toy with him as they go.

C. 1417
May his renown last ever, may he see
Till his last day increasing happiness.
I head my story with his eulogy,
His majesty, his conduct, and address.

Throughout the world I witness his renown;
Until the end may good attend him still;
His mien hath given lustre to the crown,
And fortune been his breastplate 'gainst all ill.

Throughout the world all men of Faith divine,
And all the kings, rejoice in him alone,
Whose glorious fortune maketh heaven to shine,
For earth but baseth his illustrious throne.

He is a mighty Elephant of bale
In fight and at the feast a faithful sky,*


For there, since his bright projects never fail,
Each billow of his ocean runneth high.

Earth's monarchs are his quarry in the chace,
Wild beasts and cattle in his peace abide,
In battle-days the whizzing of his mace
Dissundereth lion's heart and leopard's hide.

May his head flourish, justice fill his heart,
And with the world his head and crown ne'er part.