1860.] The Kirán-us-ScCdain of 3Iir Khusraw. 235 



from his pre-occupation. The minister then presents his message, and, 

 after a very lavish interchange of gifts, the great interview is fixed 

 for the morrow and the two return to the king. 



On the morning of the day every body is astir — the whole day 

 passes in busy preparations — untii evening draws near. 



When the day waned to its cióse and the sultry heat had passed 



And the sun was about to sink into the ocean, 



The king of the East to cross the river 



Asked for a boat swift as the revolving heavens. 



The description of this boat filis half a chapter and then follows 

 the meeting. The prince of Bengal crosses. 



The prince's boat flew swifter than an arrow 



And in the twinkling of an eye crossed the river. 



Soon as he had touched the shore 



He saw his pearl on the bank of the stream. 



He longed in the agitation of his restless heart 



To leap ashore and clasp it to his bosom. 



He sought for patience, but it carne not to him, 



He sought not for tears, but lo ! they came. 



On the other side stood the King Moizz-ud-Dín 



With all preparations of courtesy after the manner of kings. 



When the king's eye fell on his bewildered visitant, 



The more he gazed, the more bewildered himself became, 



He rushed forward and scattered a donative of tears, 



He flew to meet him and clasped him in his arms. 



Each locked the other in a cióse embrace, 



Each lingered long in the other's arms ; 



Like rose and rosebud when they leap forth from winter, 



This parts not from that, ñor that from this. 

 A tender dialogue ensues between them and all their jealousies and 

 suspicions are soon set at rest in mutual confidence and aífection. 



The poet himself looked on the scene amid the crowd of courtiers, 

 and he expresses his own feelings in a triumphant ode of joy, begin- 

 ning : 



Kappy the moment when the lover gains the beloved. 

 The best couplets are the folio wing. 



líone knows the joys of presence but he the sorrow-consumed one 



Who after long exile reaches the beloved. 



None knows the worth of the rose but he the captire bird 



Who has felt the cold of winter and then beholds the spring, 



2 i 2 



