burton--1001-nights--sample

Till Fortune shot us pith the severance shaft; * Ah who shall patient
bear such parting throe?
And dart of Death struck down amid the tribe * The age’s pearl that
Morn saw brightest show:
I cried the while his case took speech and said: — * Would Heaven,
my son, Death mote his doom foreslow!
Which be the readiest road wi’ thee to meet * My Son! for whom I
would my soul bestow?
If sun I call him no! the sun doth set; * If moon I call him, wane the
moons; Ah no!
O sad mischance o’ thee, O doom of days, * Thy place none other love
shall ever know:
Thy sire distracted sees thee, but despairs * By wit or wisdom Fate to
overthrow:
Some evil eye this day hath cast its spell * And foul befal him as it
foul befel!
Then he sobbed a single sob and his soul fled his flesh. The slaves
shrieked aloud, “Alas, our lord!” and showered dust on their heads and
redoubled their weeping and wailing. Presently they carried their dead
master to the ship side by side with his dead son and, having
transported all the stuff from the dwelling to the vessel, set sail and
disappeared from mine eyes. I descended from the tree and, raising the
trap-door, went down into the underground dwelling where everything
reminded me of the youth; and I looked upon the poor remains of him
and began repeating these verses: —
Their tracks I see, and pine with pain and pang * And on deserted
hearths I weep and yearn:
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