The new moon's silver sickle

The new Moon's silver sickle, and the Night's starfields I saw;

And, for my own life's reaping time, fell on my spirit awe.

"Awake, awake, good Genius!" I cried; "look, here's the sun!"

"Woe's me!" -- "Nay!" spake he sweetly: "the deeds which thou hast done

Are done. Have thou no terrors! Say, `Settle all accounts,

Earth! with this corpse I leave thee, while my glad spirit mounts.'

Say `Sky! boast not thy starry pomp! we who God's Sufis be,

Sell moonbeams at a barleycorn, and the Pleiades for three!' "