Whether we need or joy or woe !
But when thy train came up the vale,
I bade the women cease their wail —
Even the poor mother, wild with woe,
I charged her outcries to forego ;
And to secure obedience, swore
That if one sob of hers my guest
Should reach, to trouble feast or rest,
Henceforth she was my wife no more !
Thou knowest, O Bey, if sound or sight
Of grief hath touched thy heart this night !
Then join thy faithful prayers with mine,
That on the dead God's face may shine !"
The Bey stood speechless as in trance,
Wonder and pity in his glance,
Then, "’Tis the will of God !" he said,
And followed where Sheikh Moosa led.
Within the tent of grief they stand ;
On a rich mat the fair child lies ;