Ode 592

O LION-HEARTED, ocean-handed King,

Thou ruler just, sultan, and sovereign,

Who by thy virtues as thy strength doth reign,

The conqueror of every living thing;

Shah Mesóud, whose reverberating name

Into all quarters of the earth hath run;

Wherever blows the wind and shines the sun,

There is thy glory, Mesóud, there thy fame.

Perchance, great Shah, those powers invisible

That on thy dread intelligence attend

Even have told thee how thy humble friend

Lately from light to deepest darkness fell.

Yea! by a sudden stroke of skilful Fate,

The little unpretending three years' hoard

Out of thy bounty diligently stored

Is stolen: therefore am I desolate.

Last night I had a dream: methought that I

At morning in the royal stables stood,

And lo! my mule was munching at his food.

“Thou knowest me?” said he, nosebag awry.

I woke and pondered long. My mule—what might

That mean? The royal barley—what? O deign,

All wise Mesóud, omniscient sovereign,

My dream to read—and to fulfil—aright.