Chapter XCIV

But I was not. Oh! that the Fates decree That I now cast aside this clay of me; My soul and body wedded for a while Are sick and would that separation be.

XCV

"Thou shalt not kill!"--Thy words, O God, we heed, Though thy two Soul-devouring Angels feed Thy Promise of another life on this,-- To have spared us both, it were a boon indeed.

XCVI

Oh! that some one would but return to tell If old Nubakht is burning now in hell, Or if the workers for the Prophet's prize Are laughing at his Paradisal sell.