He sees with larger, other eyes,
Athwart all earthly mysteries--
He knows what's Swat.
Let Swat bury the great Ahkoond
With a noise of mourning and of lamentation!
Let Swat bury the great Ahkoond
With the noise of the mourning of the Swattish nation!
Fallen is at length
Its tower of strength,
Its sun is dimmed ere it had nooned;
Dead lies the great Ahkoond,
The great Ahkoond of Swat
Is not!
_George Thomas Lanigan_.
DIRGE OF THE MOOLLA OF KOTAL
_Rival of the Akhoond of Swat_
I.
Alas, unhappy land; ill-fated spot
Kotal--though where or what
On earth Kotal is, the bard has forgot;
Further than this indeed he knoweth not--
It borders upon Swat!
II.
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battal-
Ions: the gloom that lay on Swat now lies
Upon Kotal,
On sad Kotal, whose people ululate
For their loved Moolla late.
Put away his little turban,
And his narghileh embrowned,
The lord of Kotal--rural urban--
'S gone unto his last Akhoond,
'S gone to meet his rival Swattan,
'S gone, indeed, but not forgotten.
Pages:
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208