of his ghazals continue to be popular: author of a voluminous Diwan,
and a Commentary on the Gulistan of Saadi: a clever caligraphist, wrote
with his own hand passages from the Koran for the ornamentation of
the principal Mosque of Delhi. His son Dara was also a poet. At the
Mutiny in 1857 he was taken prisoner and sent to Rangoon: there he
continued to write verses, and died at an advanced age. His portrait,
which forms the frontispiece to this book, is from a miniature kindly
lent by the Indian Section of the Victoria and Albert Museum, South
Kensington.

J.D.W.
Dulwich Village, London.
October, 1918.




I.


Thou tak'st no heed of me,
I am as naught to thee;
Cruel Beloved, arise!
Lovely and languid thou,
Sleep still upon thy brow,
Dreams in thine eyes.
From out thy garment flows
Fragrance of many a rose--
Airs of delight
Caught in the moonlit hours