Had Death, in this matter, been willing to accept a ransom, all mankind would have offered themselves as the price—and I would have been the very first among them. (1)

Finished.

Among the elegies is a poem composed by Shaykh Maḥmud ibn ʿAli ibn Maḥmud ibn Muqbil al-Daqqūqi al-Baghdadi, the ḥadith scholar—may Allah have mercy upon him; he never actually met the Shaykh—which runs as follows: (2)

The scholar of the age has passed away—how grievous his loss! His absence has kindled a blaze within our breasts. (3)

My tears flow unrestrained, cascading down my cheeks in chains; I wipe them away for a moment, yet my eyelids send them forth again.

They yearn for reunion, but separation drives them back; what recourse has the hopeful when his purpose is thwarted?

The man of spotless garments, endowed with knowledge and sound judgment, has departed; never was his mantle sullied by sin. (4)

The devoted ascetic, the valiant Ibn Taymiyya, is gone—his very opponents acknowledged his learning and his merit.

All the lands of Syria wept for him, together with their inhabitants; its Grand Mosque lamented, and even its stone floor dissolved in grief.