When I through paradise shall stray,
Its houries and delights survey,
Full little gust awake will they,
   O Lord!  I’ll nothing crave but Thee.

For Hadgee Ahmed is my name,
My heart with love of God doth flame,
Here and above I’ll bide the same;
   O Lord!  I nothing crave but Thee.

MYSTICAL POEM.

Relating to the worship of the Great Foutsa or Buddh. 
From the Tibetian.

Should I Foutsa’s force and glory,
Earth’s protector, all unfold,
Through more years would last my story
Than has Ganges sands of gold. 
Him the fitting reverence showing
For a minute’s period e’en,
Bringeth blessing overflowing
Unto heaven and man, I ween. 
If from race of man descended,
Or from that of dragon-sprite,
When thy prior course {13} is ended,
Thou in evil paths shouldst light,—­
If Great Foutsa ever, ever
Thou but seek with mind sincere,
Thou the mists of sin shalt sever,
All shall lie before thee clear. 
Whosoe’er his parents losing
From his early infancy,
Cannot guess with all his musing,
Where their place of birth might be;
He who sister dear nor brother,
Since the sun upon him shone,
And of kindred all the other
Shoots and branches ne’er has known—­
If of Foutsa Grand the figure
He shall shape and colour o’er,
Gaze upon it rapt and eager,
And with fitting rites adore,
And through twenty days shall utter
The dread name with reverend fear,
Foutsa huge of form shall flutter
Round about him and appear,
And to him the spot discover,
Birth-place of his flesh and bone {14};
And though evils whelm them over,
For his sake release them soon;
If that man unchang’d still keeping
From back-sliding shall refrain,
He, by Foutsa touch’d when sleeping,
Shall Biwangarit’s title gain;
If to Bouddi’s elevation,
He would win, and from the three
Confines dark of tribulation
Soar to light and liberty—­
When a heart with kindness glowing
He within him shall descry,
To Grand Foutsa’s image going,
Let him gaze attentively: 
Soon his every wish acquiring
He shall triumph glad and fain,
And the shades of sin retiring
Never more his soul restrain. 
Whosoever bent on speeding
To that distant shore, the home
Of the wise, shall take to reading
The all-wondrous Soudra tome;
If that study deep beginning,
No fit preparation made,
Scanty shall he find his winning,
Straight forgetting what he’s read: 
Whilst he in the dark subjection
Shall of shadowing sin remain,
Soudra’s page of full perfection
How shall he in mind retain? 
Unto him the earth who blesses,
Unto Foutsa, therefore he
Drink and incense, food and dresses
Should up-offer plenteously;
And the fountain’s limpid liquor
Pour Grand Foutsa’s face before,