Still to the unstained past kept true and leal,
Still on these plains could breathe her mountain air,
And Fortune’s heaviest gifts serenely bear,
Which bend men from the truth, and make them reel.
“To govern wisely I had shown small skill
Were I not lord of simple Dara still;
That sceptre kept, I cannot lose my way!”
Strange dew in royal eyes grew round and bright,
And thrilled the trembling lids; before ’twas night
Two added provinces blessed Dara’s sway.