Thus he quoted it and offered no comment, though it is exceedingly strange.

Shaykh Jamal al-Dīn Abū Zakariyyā Yaḥyā ibn Yūsuf ibn Manṣūr ibn ʿUmar al-Anṣārī al-Ṣarṣarī (1)—a gifted panegyrist, ḥāfiẓ of hadith and of the Arabic language, whose genuine love for the Messenger of Allah ﷺ earned him in his time the comparison with Ḥassān ibn Thābit (may Allah be pleased with him)—recites in his Dīwān devoted to praising the Messenger of Allah ﷺ. Though blind of eye, he was keen-sighted of heart. He died in Baghdad in 656 AH, slain by the Tatars during the sack of the city, as will be mentioned in its proper place in this book, if Allah wills; in Him we trust and upon Him we rely. In his poem whose rhyme-letter is the undotted ḥāʾ he says:

Muhammad, sent to all mankind as mercy wide and clear,
Restores what errant falsehood broke and makes the pathway dear.

If silent mountains once replied to David in their praise,
And plated iron in his hand grew soft in wondrous ways,

Then lifeless rocks grew pliant in the Prophet’s blessed palm,
And pebbles in his grasp proclaimed His glory, sweet and calm.

If Moses by his staff caused water from the stone to spring,
A fountain from his very hand began to gush and sing.

If the gentle wind obeyed fair Solomon, to come and go,
Then the east wind rose for our Prophet, striking fear into the foe, (2)

And though a kingly realm was his, with jinn compelled to serve,
To heal the sick or scorch the spiteful, bending to his nerve, (3)

The keys to every treasure-hoard were brought before his sight,
Yet the ascetic, sure and steadfast, turned from worldly might.

If Abraham was granted love, and Moses speech sublime,
This friend, beloved—and spoken to—was honoured for all time;
By the true and glorious vision he was favoured, bright and clear.

He owns the mighty Basin and the Banner held so dear;
He will intercede for sinners when the flames of Hell appear.

He has the nearest, highest seat, a gift that brings delight,
The news of which is dearest to the hearts made pure and bright.

With the loftiest station, noble, beneath whose shade we see
The ranks of all endowed with gifts pass by in dignity. (4)

And in the Garden, Firdaws high, he is the first to win—
Its portals one and all will open outwards just for him. (5)