And when the sixth moon's scimetar
Curved sharp above the evening star,
He sought again the santon's door,
Not weak and trembling as before,
But strong of limb and clear of brain;
"Behold," he said, "the fiend is slain."
"Nay," Hamza answered, "starved and drowned,
The curst one lies in death-like swound.
"But evil breaks the strongest gyves,
And jins like him have charmed lives.
"One beaker of the juice of grape
May call him up in living shape.
"When the red wine of Badakshan
Sparkles for thee, beware, O Khan,
"With water quench the fire within,
And drown each day thy devilkin!"
Thenceforth the great Khan shunned the cup
As Shitan's own, though offered up,
With laughing eyes and jewelled hands,
By Yarkand's maids and Samarcand's.