Elegy on the Death of Her Brother

Two boughs, the fairest ever tree possessed,
We sprang and mounted from the selfsame root,
Until men said, “Long are their shoots, and blest
Their shade and sweet the promise of their fruit.”

But time, whose villainy will nothing spare,
Destroyed my dear one. He did us excel
As 'mongst the stars a moon more bright and fair,
And as a moon from forth our midst he fell.
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Safiya, Lady of Bahila
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