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James Russell Lowell - Mahmood The Image-Breaker
Work rating: Low

Old events have modern meanings; only that survives
Of past history which finds kindred in all hearts and lives.

Mahmood once, the idol-breaker, spreader of the Faith,
Was at Sumnat tempted sorely, as the legend saith.

In the great pagoda`s centre, monstrous and abhorred,
Granite on a throne of granite, sat the temple`s lord,

Mahmood paused a moment, silenced by the silent face
That, with eyes of stone unwavering, awed the ancient place.

Then the Brahmins knelt before him, by his doubt made bold,
Pledging for their idol`s ransom countless gems and gold.

Gold was yellow dirt to Mahmood, but of precious use,
Since from it the roots of power suck a potent juice.

`Were yon stone alone in question, this would please me well,`
Mahmood said; `but, with the block there, I my truth must sell.

`Wealth and rule slip down with Fortune, as her wheel turns round;
He who keeps his faith, he only cannot be discrowned.

`Little were a change of station, loss of life or crown,
But the wreck were past retrieving if the Man fell down.`

So his iron mace he lifted, smote with might and main,
And the idol, on the pavement tumbling, burst in twain.

Luck obeys the downright striker; from the hollow core,
Fifty times the Brahmins` offer deluged all the floor.
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