was afraid her parents would be anxious. With regard to the angel
of death, Avicenna has related that the soul, like a bird,
escapes with much trouble from the snares of earth (_quatrain_
43), until this angel delivers it from the last of its fetters.
We think of the goddess Rân with her net. Death is imagined
(_quatrain_ 44) as a fowler or fisher of men, thus: "Dô kam der
Tôt als ein diep, und stal dem reinen wîbe daz leben ûz ir
lîbe."[10]

On account of its brilliance a weapon's edge (_quatrain_ 46) has
been compared in Arab poetry with sunlit glass, with the torch of
a monk, with the stars and with the flame in a dark night. Nor
would an Arab turn to picturesque comparisons in poetry alone.
Speaking of a certain letter, Abu'l-Ala assures the man who wrote
it that "it proceeds from the residence of the great doctor who
holds the reins of prose and verse" (_quatrain_ 50). Now with
regard to glass, it was a very ancient industry among the Arabs.
In the second century of the Hegira it was so far advanced that
they could make enamelled glass and unite in one glass different
colours. A certain skilled chemist of the period was not only
expert in these processes (_quatrain_ 52), but even tried to make
of glass false pearls, whereon he published a pamphlet.

Death, from being a silent messenger who punctually fulfilled his
duty, became a grasping, greedy foe (_quatrain_ 56). In the
Psalms (xci. 3-6) he comes as a hunter with snares and arrows.
Also "der Tôt wil mit mir ringen."[11] In ancient times Death was
not a being that slew, but simply one that fetched away to the
underworld, a messenger. So was the soul of the beggar fetched
away by angels and carried into Abraham's bosom. An older view