XVIII.
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nto the Soul that is confused by LoveComes Sorrow after Sorrow—most of allTo Love whose only Friendship is Reproof,And overmuch of Counsel—whereby LoveGrows stubborn, and increases the Disease.Love unreproved is a delicious food;Reproved, is Feeding on one's own Heart's Blood.Salámán heard; his Soul came to his Lips;Reproaches struck not Absál out of him,But drove Confusion in; bitter becameThe Drinking of the sweet Draught of Delight,And wan'd the Splendour of his Moon of Beauty.His Breath was Indignation, and his HeartBled from the Arrow, and his Anguish grew—How bear it?—Able to endure one wound,From Wound on Wound no remedy but Flight;Day after Day, Design upon Design,He turn'd the Matter over in his Heart,And, after all, no Remedy but Flight.Resolv'd on that, he victuall'd and equipp'dA Camel, and one Night he led it forth,And mounted—he and Absál at his side,The fair Salámán and Absál the Fair,Together on one Camel side by side,Twin Kernels in a single Almond packt.And True Love murmurs not, however smallHis Chamber—nay, the straitest best of all. When the Moon of Canaan YúsufDarken'd in the Prison of Ægypt,Night by Night Zulaikha wentTo see him—for her Heart was broken.Then to her said One who neverYet had tasted of Love's Garden:"Leavest thou thy Palace-ChamberFor the Felon's narrow Cell?"Answer'd She, "Without my Lover,Were my Chamber Heaven's Horizon,It were closer than an Ant's eye;And the Ant's eye wider wereThan Heaven, my Lover with me there!"
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