This turbid stream had never flowed thence, heavily.”
Not caring to expose his scribe to all his friends,
The Prophet held his peace, to watch th’ adventure’s ends.10
The scribe’s heart hardened more and more as time rolled on.
Repentance he felt not; his pride grew thereupon.
He sighed. His sighs were not the signs of contrite heart;
But tokens sure that justice made him feel its smart.
God caused his pride to weigh more heavy than a chain.
How many thus are fettered; none can heal their pain.
His blasphemy and pride held him in iron grip;