Sing on, sweet voice, sing on and comfort me,
Nor ever fear to find thy master cold.’
Then sang Abu-l’Atahiyeh aloud,
‘In those dark moments when thy faltering breath
Shall strive in vain against all-conquering death,
These things shall seem like shadows on a shroud.’
There fell a fearful silence on the place,
While the scared guests saw Haroun from his throne
Frown at the bard, and then, with a deep groan,
Hide in his trembling hands his weeping face.