ON THE DEATH OF A SON[28]
Tyrant of man! Imperious Fate!
I bow before thy dread decree,
Nor hope in this uncertain state
To find a seat secure from thee.
Life is a dark, tumultuous stream,
With many a care and sorrow foul,
Yet thoughtless mortals vainly deem
That it can yield a limpid bowl.
Think not that stream will backward flow,
Or cease its destin'd course to keep;
As soon the blazing spark shall glow
Beneath the surface of the deep.
Believe not Fate at thy command
Will grant a meed she never gave;
As soon the airy tower shall stand,
That's built upon a passing wave.
Life is a sleep of threescore years,
Death bids us wake and hail the light,
And man, with all his hopes and fears,
Is but a phantom of the night.
Aly Ben Mohammed Altahmany.
[28] Aly Ben Mohammed was a native of that part of Arabia called Hejaz; and was celebrated not only as a poet, but as a politician.
TO LEILA
Leila, with too successful art,
Has spread for me love's cruel snare;
And now, when she has caught my heart,
She laughs, and leaves it to despair.