Mercy's Reward

Hast seen The record written of Salah-ud-Deen, The Sultan—how he met, upon a day, In his own city on the public way, A woman whom they led to die? The veil Was stripped from off her weeping face, and pale Her shamed cheeks were, and wild her fixed eye, And her lips drawn with terror at the cry Of the harsh people, and the rugged stones Borne in their hands to break her flesh and bones; For the law stood that sinners such as she Perish by stoning, and this doom must be; So went the adult'ress to her death. High noon it was, and the hot Khamseen's breath Blew from the desert sands and parched the town. The crows gasped, and the kine went up and down With lolling tongues; the camels moaned; a crowd Pressed with their pitchers, wrangling high and loud About the tank; and one dog by a well, Nigh dead with thirst, lay where he yelped and fell, Glaring upon the water out of reach, And praying succour in a silent speech, So piteous were its eyes. Which, when she saw, This woman from her foot her shoe did draw, Albeit death-sorrowful, and, looping up The long silk of her girdle, made a cup Of the heel's hollow, and thus let it sink Until it touched the cool black water's brink; So filled th' embroidered shoe, and gave a draught To the spent beast, which whined, and fawned, and quaffed Her kind gift to the dregs; next licked her hand, With such glad looks that all might understand He held his life from her; then, at her feet He followed close, all down the cruel street, Her one friend in that city. But the King, Riding within his litter, marked this thing, And how the woman, on her way to die Had such compassion for the misery Of that parched hound: "Take off her chain, and place The veil once more about the sinner's face, And lead her to her house in peace!" he said. "The law is that the people stone thee dead For that which thou hast wrought; but there is come Fawning around thy feet a witness dumb, Not heard upon thy trial; this brute beast Testifies for thee, sister! whose weak breast Death could not make ungentle. I hold rule In Allah's stead, who is 'the Merciful,' And hope for mercy; therefore go thou free— I dare not show less pity unto thee."

As we forgive—and more than we— Ya Barr! Good God, show clemency.