Love

The martyrs of Love are not Muslim nor Paynim, The manners of Love are not Arab nor Turk!

Some passion far other than Love was the power That taught Ghazni’s high ruler to dote on his slave.

When the spirit of Love has no place on the throne, All wisdom and learning vain tricks and pretence!

Paying court to no king, by no king held in awe, Love is freedom and honor, whose scorn of the world

Holds more than the magic that made Alexander His fabulous mirror—its magic makes man.