O men of morals! why do ye defame,
And thus misjudge me? I am not to blame.
Save weakness for the grape, and female charms,
What sins of mine can any of ye name?
Who treads in passion's footsteps here below,
A helpless pauper will depart, I trow;
Remember who you are, and whence you come.
Consider what you do, and whither go.
Skies like a zone our weary lives enclose,
And from our tear-stained eyes a Jihun flows;
Hell is a fire enkindled of our griefs;
Heaven but a moment's peace, stolen from our woes.
91. C. L. N. A. I. Khabarat: see Bl. Prosody, p. v.
92. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. This balanced arrangement of similes is called Tirsí'a. Gladwin, p. 5.