The lordly vulture gnaws the corse
That rots upon yon barren sands.
Nor want, nor weakness still conspires
To bind us to a sordid state;
The fly that with a touch expires
Sips honey from the royal plate.
TO THE CALIPH HAROUN AL RASHID[31]
(By Prince Ibrahim Ben Adham)
Religion's gems can ne'er adorn
The flimsy robe by pleasure worn;