THE POET AND THE FOUNTAIN
Firdausi by the palace fountain stood
Hard by the Court of Song in quiet mood.
The Sultan smiled to see him. "Thy beard shows
Thee nearer to the cypress than the rose,
"Firdausi. Is thy heart warm and blood cold,
Who singest of love and beauty, being old?"
Firdausi to the fountain turned his eyes,
Grey-mossed and lichened by the centuries.
"What maketh this sweet music, sayest thou?