Classic Poem

In Senahar, my first born sleeps;
Stunned with the blow, poor Saadi weeps;
Tho' youth more fresh than Jussuf blooms,
The charnelworm his cheek consumes.
Where is the palm, star-topped, earth-footed,
Which the brute storm has not uprooted?
I muttered, — " Perish God on high,
Since pure youth dies as greybeards die! "
I staggered to my darling's tomb,
And tore the sealed stone therefrom,
Then frantic, tottering, void of wit,
Groped down into that marble pit.
When grief was spent, & reason came,
Methought I heard my son exclaim
" If my dark house thy heart affright
" Saadi strive upwards to the light
" Wilt thou give graves the blaze of noon
" High hearts can work that wonder soon
The crowd believe that harvests grow
Where never man did barley sow.
But Saadi saw the fruit enchanted
By bending sower truly planted.
Saadi