POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 1921, 21 April 1880, Page 3

POETRY.

AFTER DEATH IN ARABIA. [By E. Arnold.] He who died at Azan sends This to comfort all his friends. Faithful friends! It lies, I know, Pale and white and cold as snow ; And ye say, " Abdallah's dead !" Weeping at the feet and head, I can see your falling tears, I can hear your sighs and prayers ; Yet I smile and whisper this—- '' lam not the thing you kiss : Cease your tears, and let it lie ; It was mine, it is not 'l'." Sweet friends ! what the women lave For its last bed of the grave, Is but a hut which I am quitting, Is a garment no more fitting, Is a cage, from which at last, Like a hawk, my soul hath passed. Love the inmate, not the room — The wearer, not the garb—the plume Of the falcon, not the bars Which kept him from the splendid stars .' Loving friends ! Be wise, and dry f-traightwsy every weeping eye : Whit ye lift upon the bier Is not worth a wistful tear. !Tis an empty sea-shell—one Out of which the pearl has gone : The shell is broken —it lies there : The pearl, the all, the soul, is here. ' Tis an earthen jar whose lid Allah sealed, the while it hid That treasure of his treasury, A mind that loved him ; let it lie ! Lat the shard be earth's once mora, Since tho gold shines in his store ! Allah glorious ! Allah good ! Now thy world is understood, Now the long, long wonder ends ! Yet ye weep, my erring friends, While th« man whom ye call dead, In unspoken bliss, inttead, Lives and loves yon ; lost, 'tis true, By such light as shines for you ; But in the light ye cannot see Of unfulfilled felici y In enlarging paradise, Live 3 a life that never dies. Farewell, friends ! Yet not farewell; Where I am, ye, too, shall dwell. I am gone before your face A moment's time, a little When ye come where I have stepped, Ye will wonder why ye wept; Ye will know, by wise love taught, That.here is all, and there is i-aught, Weep awhile, if ye are fain— Sunshine still must follow rain ; Only not a death—for death, Now I know, is that first breath Which our sonls draw when we ent-3r Life, which is, of all life, centre. Be ye certain all seems love, Viewed from Allah's throne above ; Be ye stout of heart, and come Bravely onward to your home ! La Allah .' ilia Allah! yea! Thou Love divine I Thou Love alway ! He that died at Azan gaoe This to those who made his grave.