Can make my sick brain reel.

Ah, you are deaf? you scorn me

And loathe, as a thing defiled?

My lord, I am but a woman

Who longs to see her child

Laid in a tomb, entreasured

Under the shrouding sod.

O would I had never given birth,

Or that earth had no God!

[Pg 77]

[Pg 77]

SHAH JEHAN TO MUMTAZ MAHAL

I see as in a pale mirage

The palm that o'er you sways,

The waters of the Jumna wan are beating.

One pearl-cloud, like a far-off Taj,

A dome of grief betrays—

Its beauty as was yours will be too fleeting!

The world is wider than I knew

Now that your face is gone!

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