XXI.
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ut as the days went on, and still The ShahBeheld Salámán how sunk in Absál,And yet no Hand of better Effort lifted;But still the Crown that shall adorn his Head,And still the Throne that waited for his Foot,Trampled from Memory by a Base Desire,Of which the Soul was still unsatisfied—Then from the Sorrow of The Shah fell Fire;To Gracelessness Ungracious he became,And, quite to shatter his rebellious Lust,Upon Salámán all his Will discharged.And Lo! Salámán to his Mistress turn'd,But could not reach her—look'd and look'd again,And palpitated tow'rd her—but in Vain!Oh Misery! what to the Bankrupt worseThan Gold he cannot reach! To one AthirstThan Fountain to the Eye and Lip forbid!—Or than Heaven opened to the Eyes in Hell!—Yet, when Salámán's Anguish was extreme,The Door of Mercy open'd in his Face;He saw and knew his Father's Hand outstretchtTo lift him from Perdition—timidly,Timidly tow'rd his Father's Face his ownHe lifted, Pardon-pleading, Crime-confest,As the stray Bird one day will find her Nest. A Disciple ask'd a Master,"By what Token should a FatherVouch for his reputed Son?"Said the Master, "By the Stripling,Howsoever Late or Early,Like to the Reputed FatherGrowing—whether Wise or Foolish. "Lo the disregarded DarnelWith itself adorns the Wheat-field,And for all the Early SeasonSatisfies the Farmer's Eye;But come once the Hour of Harvest.And another Grain shall answer,'Darnel and no Wheat, am I.'"
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