| Trains of camels through the sand brought him gems from Samarkand
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| Fleets of galleys through the sea brought him pearls to match with thee
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| But he counted not his gain nor his treasure, mine or main
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| «What is wealth ?», the king would say, «Even this shall pass away»
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| In the revel of his court, at the zenith of his sport
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| When the palms of all his guests burned with clapping at his zest
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| He among his figs and wine would cry, «Oh, loving friends of mine
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| Pleasures may come, but they cannot stay, like even this shall pass away ?»
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| The most beautiful woman ever seen was the bride he chose his queen
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| Pillowed on their royal bed, whispering to her soul he said:
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| «Though a bridegroom never pressed dearer bosom to his chest
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| But mortal flesh must come to clay and even these shall pass away»
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| Towering over the village square, thirty meters in the air
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| Rose his statue, carved in stone, as the king stood there alone
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| Gazing at his sculptured name, said to himself, «So what is fame?
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| Fame, it’s but slow decay, even this shall pass away»
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| Fighting furiously on a battlefield, once a javelin pierced his shield
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| Soldiers with a loud lament bore him bleeding to his tent
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| Groaning from his tortured side, «Pain is hard to bear», he cried
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| «Oh, but with patience day by day, even this shall pass away»
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| Sick and sore with cancer; |
| weak and tired and old, just minutes yet to go to
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| pass the gates o' gold
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| Spake he with his dying breath, «Life is done, so what is death ?»
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| Then in answer to the king fell a sunbeam on his ring
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| Reflecting words he failed to say: «Even this shall pass away» |