Classic Poem

1

Shame hitherto was wont my tears to stay,
But now by shame they will no more be stayed,
So that each bone seems through its skin to sob,
And every vein to swell the sad cascade.
Her beauty could dismay the young gazelle:
No wonder stricken me it hath dismayed.

She uncovered: pallor veiled her at farewell:
No veil 'twas, yet her cheeks it cast in shade;
So seemed they, while tears trickled over them,
Gold with a double row of pearls inlaid.
She loosed three sable tresses of her hair,
And thus of night four nights at once she made;
But when she lifted to the moon in heaven
Her face, two moons together I surveyed.

2

Naught kills the noble like forgiveness — yet
Where are the noble who no boon forget?
Kindness subdues the man of generous race,
But only makes more insolent the base.
As ill doth bounty in sword's place accord
With honor, as in bounty's place the sword.

3

That which souls desire is too small a thing for them to fight about
and perish by each other's hands,
Howbeit a true man will face grim fate ere he suffer contumely.
If the life of aught that lives were lasting, we should reckon the
brave the most misguided of us,
But if there is no escape from death, 'tis but weakness to be a coward.
All that the soul finds hard before it has come to pass is easy when it comes.