Kusta Ben Luka is my name, I write To Abd Al-Rabban; fellow-roysterer onc… Now the good Caliph’s learned Treasurer… And for no ear but his. Carry this letter

Ah, but Time has touched a form That could show what Homer’s age Bred to be a hero’s wage. ‘Were not all her life but storm, Would not painters paint a form

O heart, be at peace, because Nor knave nor dolt can break What’s not for their applause, Being for a woman’s sake. Enough if the work has seemed,

A BLOODY and a sudden end, Gunshot or a noose, For Death who takes what man would keep… Leaves what man would lose. He might have had my sister,

O but there is wisdom In what the sages said; But stretch that body for a while And lay down that head Till I have told the sages

Some may have blamed you that you took a… The verses that could move them on the d… When, the ears being deafened, the sight… With lightning, you went from me, and I… Nothing to make a song about but kings,

‘CALL down the hawk from the air; Let him be hooded or caged Till the yellow eye has grown mild, For larder and spit are bare, The old cook enraged,

We should be hidden from their eyes, Being but holy shows And bodies broken like a thorn Whereon the bleak north blows, To think of buried Hector

Once, when midnight smote the air, Eunuchs ran through Hell and met On every crowded street to stare Upon great Juan riding by: Even like these to rail and sweat

They hold their public meetings where Our most renowned patriots stand, One among the birds of the air, A stumpier on either hand; And all the popular statesmen say

Sickness brought me this Thought, in that scale of his: Why should I be dismayed Though flame had burned the whole World, as it were a coal,