The Secret

I HAVE heard a fearful secret:
To the Shah I will not tell it ;
I will hide it from my sweetheart,
From my merry, dear companions,
When they ask.

This it is : The clod I trample
Was the skull of Alexander,
And the waters of the ocean
In the veins of haughty princes
Once ran red.

And the dust-clouds of the desert
Were the lips of lovely women :
Where are they, and they who kissed them ?
Power dies, and beauty passes, —
Naught abides.

Where is Jamshyd, and his beaker ?
Solomon, and where his mirror ?
Which of all the wise professors
Knows when Kaus and Jamshyd flourished, —
Who can tell ?

They were mighty, yet they vanished ;
Names are all they left behind them :
Glory first, and then an echo ;
Then the very echo hushes, —
All is still.

O my Shah, ask not my secret!
Sweetheart, I must hide it from you !
They who hear it are not merry :
Power dies, and beauty passes, —
Naught abides.