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| SOLOMON, where is thy throne? It is gone in the wind. | |
| Babylon, where is thy might? It is gone in the wind. | |
| Like the swift shadows of noon, like the dreams of the blind, | |
| Vanish the glories and pomps of the earth in the wind. | |
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| Man, canst thou build upon aught in the pride of thy mind? | 5 |
| Wisdom will teach thee that nothing can tarry behind: | |
| Tho’ there be thousand bright actions embalm’d and enshrined, | |
| Myriads and millions of brighter are snow in the wind. | |
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| Solomon, where is thy throne? It is gone in the wind. | |
| Babylon, where is thy might? It is gone in the wind. | 10 |
| All that the genius of man hath achieved or design’d | |
| Waits but its hour to be dealt with as dust by the wind. | |
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| Say what is pleasure? A phantom, a mask undefined: | |
| Science? An almond whereof we can pierce but the rind: | |
| Honour and affluence? Firmans that Fortune hath sign’d, | 15 |
| Only to glitter and pass on the wings of the wind. | |
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| Solomon, where is thy throne? It is gone in the wind. | |
| Babylon, where is thy might? It is gone in the wind. | |
| Who is the fortunate? He who in anguish hath pined! | |
| He shall rejoice when his relics are dust in the wind. | 20 |
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| Mortal, be careful with what thy best hopes are entwined: | |
| Woe to the miners for Truth, where the lampless have mined! | |
| Woe to the seekers on earth for what none ever find! | |
| They and their trust shall be scatter’d like leaves to the wind! | |
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| Solomon, where is thy throne? It is gone in the wind. | 25 |
| Babylon, where is thy might? It is gone in the wind. | |
| Happy in death are they only whose hearts have consign’d | |
| All earth’s affections and longings and cares to the wind. | |
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| Pity thou, reader, the madness of poor humankind | |
| Raving of knowledge—and Satan so busy to blind! | 30 |
| Raving of glory, like me; for the garlands I bind, | |
| Garlands of song, are but gather’d—and strewn in the wind. | |
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| Solomon, where is thy throne? It is gone in the wind. | |
| Babylon, where is thy might? It is gone in the wind. | |
| I, Abul-Namez, must rest; for my fire is declined, | 35 |
| And I hear voices from Hades like bells on the wind. | |
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