Oh! had that stolen fruit the power possess’d
To war with life, I now had been at rest.’
“‘So fond of death,’ replied the Boy, ‘’tis plain
Thou hast no certain notion of the pain;
But to the Caliph were a secret shown,
Death has no pain that would be then unknown.’
“Now,” says the story, “in a closet near,
The monarch seated, chanced the boys to hear;
There oft he came, when wearied on his throne,
To read, sleep, listen, pray, or be alone.