A CERTAIN Pasha, dead these thousand years, Once from his harem fled in sudden tears, And had this sentence on the city's gate Deeply engraven, "Only God is great." So those four words above the city's noise Hung like the accents of an angel's voice, And evermore, from the high barbacan, Saluted each returning caravan. Lost is that city's glory. Every gust Lifts, with crisp leaves, the unknown Pasha's dust. And all is ruin -- save one wrinkled gate Whereon is written, "Only God is great." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE by RUDYARD KIPLING LUCIFER IN STARLIGHT by GEORGE MEREDITH BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER by WALLACE RICE I HAVE A GARMENT by ABRAHAM IBN EZRA THE INDIGNANT CAPTAIN OF INDUSTRY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A SLEEPY SONG by CARRIE JACOBS BOND AN ELEGY ON SIR THOMAS OVERBURY; POISONED IN THE TOWER OF LONDON by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |